


Agony & Ecstasy

by freudensteins_monster



Series: Logyn Saga [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Bondage and Discipline, Depression, Dom/sub, Dubious Consent, Eventual Smut, F/M, Implied/Referenced Torture, Loki's Punishments, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Past Abuse, Past Torture, Psychological Torture, Sexual Content, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-03
Updated: 2014-09-06
Packaged: 2018-02-16 00:12:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 17
Words: 28,554
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2248731
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/freudensteins_monster/pseuds/freudensteins_monster
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the events of TDW Loki finds himself bored with the routine of ruling and seeks out an old flame to torment, but finding her broken he seeks to make her whole again, whether she likes it or not.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

The Allfather sat upon the golden throne of Asgard, drumming his fingertips on the armrests in frustration.  
 _Who would have thought being king would be soooo tedious?_ Loki mused.

  
Several months had passed since Thor had unknowingly left the throne to him, and with the Dark Elves defeated and the Ether contained, harmony had been restored across the nine realms and ruling Asgard had become, well, rather boring.

  
And with the boredom came time enough for reflection, which irked Loki further. In hindsight, perhaps taking the guise of the man he hated most – king or not – was not a smart move. Everything was Oh, wise Odin this, and Great Odin that. Odin, Odin, Odin… It angered Loki to be on the receiving end of reverence meant for his conniving father figure when it was rightfully his. Some days he had to fight the overwhelming urge to grab the nearest servant by the arm and shake them screaming, “My name is Loki! Say it! For sanity’s sake - SAY IT!”

  
Loki had found himself trapped by his own lie. _Odin, Odin, Odin…_

  
The burden of keeping up the illusion was weighing heavy on Loki. He needed a respite, a moment to be himself outside of his own thoughts. What he required, he decided, was a confidant, someone to whom he could be his true self around, someone who could look him in the eyes – his eyes - and simply say, “Hello Loki.”

  
The matter of who was clear enough, he had thought about her often, especially during long nights spent in the dungeons of Asgard. The desire to have her say his name in her soft sweet voice grew so strong he almost ran out of the throne room to seek her out himself. But no, it was Odin who sent the palace guard out to request her presence, hours ago. Where was she?

 

*** *** ***

 

Lady Sigyn stood before the Bifrost, feigning interest in the marvellous sight before her. She had been making her way down to the borders of Asgard most mornings of late only to stand at the edge and stare out into the heavens. If prompted about her strange habit she would simply state that she loved the beauty of it, but in truth it was what flowed beneath the rainbow bridge that held her interest. The sounds of the waves crashing against the giant stone pillars haunted Sigyn, she couldn’t escape the rhythmic torture of it even while she slept. She often dreamed of simply stepping off the Bifrost and letting her tired body be swept over the very edge of Asgard and into the abyss.

  
Sigyn went over it again in her mind; the shock as her body succumbed to gravity, her heart racing as the world rushed passed, the ice cold embrace of the turbulent waters below, the momentary gasp of pain as all life was squeezed from her body, and finally the serenity that she prayed would accompany the black veil of death. Oh, how she lusted for a reprieve from the agony of her emptiness.

_It would be so easy_ , she mused, but she lacked the courage to take that last step. Or perhaps it was pride that stopped her, she was never quite sure. The heavy footfall of soldiers interrupted her melancholy.

“Lady Sigyn?”

Sigyn turned wearily, glancing at one of the king’s royal guard, “Yes?”

“The king requests your presence.”

“The king?”

 

*** *** ***


	2. Chapter 2

A guard appeared at the entrance of the throne room and announced her arrival, “Lady Sigyn, your majesty.”

_Ah, finally._

“Bring her forth.”

As the noblewoman entered the throne room Loki couldn’t help but feel cheated; the woman that walked towards him was not the Sigyn he remembered. _His_ Sigyn was a woman of unsurpassed beauty; her golden tresses shone brighter than the sun, her amber eyes danced like liquid fire when she laughed, and she would never walk anywhere when she could run. Loki had always loved the way her delicate gowns flowed behind her as he chased her through the halls of the palace. But _this_ woman… She looked the same in every way except…

_What was it?_ Loki wondered, as she stood before him, her head bowed and eyes lowered dutifully. It was though a light had been extinguished behind her eyes, her soul – everything that was the Sigyn he wanted – had been removed and replaced a lacklustre copy. This grey doppelganger could pass for the same Lady Sigyn to the untrained eye, but Loki knew her more intimately than any and could not be fooled.

Not taking his eyes off his guest _Odin_ ordered his guards out of the throne room, he only had to wait but a moment before it was emptied leaving only the two of them and a growing silence.

“Lady Sigyn… I apologise for summoning you in such a fashion, I did, however, wish to speak to you privately.”

“Of course, my king. How may I be of service?”

_Oh, “my king”…_ Loki smirked, he had always desired to hear her say those words. _But she’s saying them to Odin,_ his thoughts reminded him.

“You were acquainted with my sons, were you not?”

“Yes, my king, a long time ago. We were children together, we were schooled together.”

“It was more than that, I think. I recall Queen Frigga once telling me that she had hoped Loki would start courting you.”

Sigyn faltered.

“We… we were once… close, my king. But we were young, and I don’t recall the subject of courtship ever arising.”

_And what a waste_ , Loki thought, _what a devoted wife she would have made_.

“Loki didn’t court you, and in all the years since… no other man has either.” Loki remarked, trying to hide his amusement behind Odin’s scowl.

“…No, my king,” was her bashful reply, “My father was never able to find a suitor to his liking.”

“Or perhaps it was because he was not able to find a suitor who would have you?”

Sigyn’s eyes opened wide with shock, “My king?”

“There are rumours,” he growled, “that you repeatedly gave yourself to Loki, that he had his way with you amongst the history tomes in the royal library. I doubt any well-bred Asgardian could stomach to touch a woman who had allowed her purity to be taken by the bastard son of a Frost Giant, the traitorous God of Lies.”

Sigyn’s extremities froze in an instant, all heat and blood rushing to her cheeks, her shame on display for the king to revel in. Eventually her body reminded her to breathe and she gasped for air, her eyes stinging with hot tears. She hazarded a glance at the king and saw him staring down at her with one grey eye, the faintest hint of a smile visible but for the briefest of moments.

“Perhaps _that_ is why you have not yet wed?” he volunteered, almost unable to hide his delight in Sigyn’s discomfort. Sigyn’s mind scrambled for purchase, to make sense of Odin’s blatant and all too true statements. _I have seen that smug look before,_ she thought, a truth slowly revealing itself in the foggy chaos of her mind, _but **never** on Odin._

Sigyn tried to remember the last time she had seen that look before, a mischievous look that said with utter delight “I know something you don’t know”.  These words chimed in her mind as though someone was singing them to her, toying with her, the way Loki used to. _NO!_ her thoughts screamed. _Don’t think of him, don’t ever think of him again! You promised!_ But it was too late, the thought had planted itself in her mind and would not let go, with good cause. The smile Odin had shown her was the same self-satisfied smile Loki had the day he had confronted Sigyn about her feelings for him. Somehow he had discovered her infatuation and had spent the whole day teasing her mercilessly until finally, just when Sigyn was ready to burst into tears, Loki had kissed her for the first time.

Sigyn raised her eyes momentarily and risked a glance at the king. His smugness, his posture, his mocking tone - it was all Loki, wasn’t it? _…Bastard._ All logic said otherwise but Loki had come back from the dead once before so it was not beyond the realm of the possible. _But how to make him reveal himself?_ Sigyn smiled puckishly as the answer presented itself. _Hit him where it hurts…_

“Perhaps,” Sigyn countered, quickly recovering her composure, “But I’m sure the fact that I have opened my legs for half the men of the realm didn’t help matters.”

“I beg your pardon?” Loki spat, his jaw and fists clenching involuntarily. Even his countenance of Odin visibly stiffened.

“Oh yes, my king,” she replied brightly, “After your son ruined me I became quite the whore. The men of Asgard seemed to think that if I was good enough for a prince – even a bastard one – then I was good enough for them.” Odin raised a hand to stop her but she continued unbidden, “Why, not last winter, Fandral and I desecrated that very throne. He bade me call him “your majesty”. He was quite the vigorous lover; he had me screaming it until my voice failed me.”

Odin stood up swiftly and struck his golden staff on the ground, the deafening metallic echo encouraging her silence.

Sigyn looked up at “Odin”, an eyebrow arched in challenge.

The visage of Odin stared unblinking at the defiant noblewoman for a full minute before breaking character and letting loose a hearty chuckle, the illusion of Odin fading away with the ripples of Loki’s laughter as he stepped down from the throne, abandoning his staff by its side. Loki approached his former lover, his leather coat tails slapping against backs of his legs as he stopped before her, beaming with pride.

“How is it that you always know?” he asked with a wry smile, “…I suppose the real Odin would never have spoken to you like that.” He posited, reaching out to the undaunted Sigyn, twisting a golden lock between his pale fingers.

“The real Odin would not have spoken to me at all. Besides… _amongst the history tomes_?” Sigyn queried with a small smile that didn’t reach her eyes, “I doubt even Heimdall would make note of such details.”

“But _you_ remembered,” Loki said with a smirk. Sigyn blushed slightly before averting her gaze, her stoic expression returning almost instantly. Loki couldn’t feign his disappointment, for the briefest of moments she had been glowing just as she did when she first fell in love with him.

“Loki…” _Oh, sweet ecstasy, say my name again,_ “What are you doing?” She looked up at him with her sad round eyes, disappointed and unamused, the same look she used to give him as children when he would play tricks on their tutors.

“Whatever do you mean?” Loki asked innocently, “I am simply ruling Asgard and safeguarding the nine realms - as I was always meant to.”

“Oh, is that what this is?” she replied quietly, her tone both bitter and sceptical. Loki’s brows creased in confusion, he leaned in closer to study her stoic features.

“Why is it that you are not more surprised to see me?” he queried, “I had hoped to illicit a more dramatic reaction from you upon discovering me to be alive and well and seated upon the throne of Asgard...”

“I ceased being surprised by your actions a long time ago, Loki.”

Loki sighed with visible displeasure. He studied her features earnestly, committing them to memory and trying to reconcile them with the features of the woman he remembered so fondly.

“There was a time,” he began, slowly, savouring the memory, “when your visage could light up the great halls of Asgard – all eyes turned to you.” … _and you only had eyes for me,_ _“_ You could enchant even the sternest of Odin’s war advisors with the lilt of your voice. It was often theorised that after a few moments in your company, even a Frost Giant couldn’t help but smile…” Loki paused momentarily, stunned by his own little joke and worried as to how well she understood the reference, “Whatever happened to you?”

Sigyn’s mournful gaze bore into him, “You did.”

Loki stepped back, silently reeling from her admission. “Whatever do you mean?” he asked again, barely a whisper, knowing full well he could not feign innocence on that score.

She had been completely and utterly in love with him, and Loki for his part had been overwhelmingly infatuated with her. They had been blissfully happy once, the way only first loves could be. But as the years went by and Loki was resigned to watching his brother succeed him in almost every way, Loki’s heart hardened and Sigyn had borne the brunt of it. He had tormented her, taken his anger out on her, and then ignored her completely when he could no longer be bothered to indulge in such emotional weaknesses. That last one had almost destroyed her.

“It was as you insinuated, no man could even meet the eyes of the woman who had permitted herself to be tainted by the fallen prince. You quite literally ruined me for all other men – and what use does a lady of Asgard have if she does not marry and bear sons?” Sigyn asked, quietly seething, “I have no purpose, no function, no life – you have destroyed me, turned me into a feeble [Draugr](http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Draugr). I am nothing. Because of you.”

Loki couldn’t meet her penetrating stare, he couldn’t argue with her on any point.

“I could have you killed for speaking to the king in such a way,” he replied weakly, his pride slightly wounded but not unjustly so.

“Oh, would you?” she asked coldly, “I am to teach needlepoint to young ladies-in-waiting in the morning and would very much like to a reason to excuse myself.”

If Loki could concede ownership of a heart, he could swear it was breaking. Sigyn’s despondence, her cold heart, her utter disinterest as to whether she lived or died… it was all his fault. He took her chin gently in his hand, tilting her face so she could not help but stare into his eyes; he hoped she could see the true extent of his sorrow.

“No… I would not have you destroyed any further,” he whispered, his lips tantalisingly close to hers, “I would have you renewed.”

He kissed her chastely, saddened that her body was no longer responsive to his touch. _Or was it,_ he wonder as he felt a single tear graze his hand. He pulled away and stared forlornly at his first love, her once beautiful eyes filled with tears. He ferociously wiped them away, taking Sigyn’s tearful face in his hands.

“Loki, please…” she begged, struggling against his vicelike grip, “Let me go!”

“Never again.”

He kissed her aggressively, Sigyn fighting back in equal measure, screaming against Loki’s mouth as he ran a vigorous hand over her back, but his passionate attack was cut short by a loud knock on the throne room doors.

_Blast it all to Hel._

Loki released a stunned Sigyn, reinstating his illusion of Odin. Sigyn, gathering her wits about her, turned to scream to the guards behind the door but the words dissipated on her tongue. She turned back to _Odin_ who simply put a finger to his lips and smiled. Sigyn sighed wearily in defeat, unable to muster the energy required to glare at her tormentor. Loki was no fool, he had no doubt cast a spell on her – probably from the first moments she stepped into the throne room - to ensure she could never speak of his deception to anyone.

“Enter.”

A guard entered, bowing respectfully.

“Your majesty, the representatives from Vanaheim have arrived at the Bifrost and will be at the palace presently.”

“Thank you, inform the kitchen and confer with the domestic staff - ensure their rooms are ready,” _Dammit, I had forgotten that blasted meeting,_ Loki cursed himself. He needed more time with Sigyn. _…and more time I shall have._ “Lady Sigyn, my apologies, my attentions are required elsewhere.”

The guard stared, confused by the dishevelled noblewoman, and Sigyn, catching his glance, remembering her place and who she was technically standing before, bowed awkwardly and turned to escape Loki’s presence.

“I would request your company for supper tomorrow evening,” Odin continued, stopping Sigyn in her tracks, “so we may resume our conversation.”

Sigyn’s thoughts swarmed in her mind, words laced in venom threatened to escape her lips but Loki’s spell permitted only one phrase to pass over her tongue, “Yes, your majesty.”

Loki watched her depart the throne room, taking pleasure in the sound her gown made as she walked away, the soft rustle of the fabric taking him back to those precious moments spent pressing his body against hers in the dark corners of the library; the feel of her soft flesh beneath his fingertips as he pushed her skirts over the curve of her hips, the way she would desperately bite her lower lip to muffle her cries of ecstasy… He would have that again, he would have her love him again.

It would be a risk to have “Odin” seen keeping regular company with Sigyn, but what matter were the whispers of the court to him? _I am the king – I do what I want._

*** *** ***

Alone in her chambers Sigyn cried herself to sleep. For the first time in many seasons the torment of the waves was drowned out by the beating of her own heart and sound of blood coursing through her veins anew.

For so many years she thought the emptiness that consumed her was a living Hel; to feel nothing, to feel like you were nothing, to have no hope for happiness. What could be worse? But then Loki had reappeared, awakening a swirling storm of emotions inside of her with just a glance, a single kiss, reminding her what it had felt like to be whole, to love, and then to have one’s heart irrevocably shattered. Feeling nothing was bad – feeling everything was far worse.


	3. Chapter 3

Sigyn’s day passed in a blur of curtseys and pricked fingers, her mind still reeling from her encounter with Loki, and being unable to tell anyone about it was driving her to distraction. After what seemed like an eternity of incessant giggling and mindless gossiping from her young charges Sigyn returned to her modest quarters in the shadow of the palace, wanting nothing more a warm bath and cold bottle of wine. She had been seated less than a minute when her maid, Agata, burst in, arms brimming with fine dresses.

“Apologies my lady, I would have been here sooner but I didn’t know what you wanted to wear this evening, and I was a bit spoilt for choice at the seamstresses.”

Sigyn rose and helped the flustered servant unburden herself, deposit the mess of gowns on the small dining table, “I didn’t ask for a new dress - what possessed you to do this?”

“Kings orders, my lady.”

“Kings orders?” Sigyn repeated bitterly.

“Yes, my lady,” her maid continued to natter a mile a minute, “One of his servants came by earlier and told about your dinner engagement. I was escorted to the royal seamstress herself and she told me to take whatever you might like, so I sort of… got one of everything,” she admitted, bashfully. “So, my lady, what would you like to wear this evening?” she asked, waving her hands at the enviable collection of gowns. “And not to worry, the king’s servant told me that some handmaidens straight from the palace will come by shortly to assist me in making you presentable.”

Sigyn grit her teeth, desperate to tell her maid what she really thought, that she had no intention of making any effort for Loki, that she’d much rather shock the court by turning up in her much-repaired  day clothes than swan in there looking like she belonged, like she wanted to be there. She wanted to say all this but Loki’s spell kept her mouth clamped shut on the subject, so instead Sigyn had to resign herself to going along with his ridiculous charade. She slumped into the nearest chair and stared at the multi-coloured mountain of fabric, “Your choice, Agata – but something simple, something modest…”

Agata’s face was as bright as midsummer, you’d be forgiven for thinking that she had been the one to receive an invitation to dine at the palace.

“Ooooh, Lady Sigyn,” she cooed as she started rifling through the pile of gowns, “Dinner with the King! Whatever could he want to talk to you about?”

_Nothing good, Agata. Nothing good._

*** *** ***

King Odin arrived royally tardy to supper only to discover that his guest had not yet arrived. He glanced around the empty private dining room in disbelief and, turning to the nearest attendant, proclaimed his agitation.

“Why is it that neither my attendants nor my citizens can comply with simple requests?” he barked, “I request her attendance at eight bells, she should be walking through those doors before the first bell chimes. Must I go retrieve her myself?”

“Apologies, my king,” stammered a nervous guard, “She is on her way. But… the Lady Sigyn would not be hurried.”

Odin chortled, “Of course not. That would imply mindless obedience, wouldn’t it?”

“…Yes, my king?”

_I’m surrounded by idiots._

Odin dismissed the terrified youth and waved over an equally terrified server, helping himself to a glass of wine while he waited for the wilful Lady Sigyn. Soon enough the grand doors opened and Sigyn stepped through, staring daggers at the king.

“Ah! Lady Sigyn, so good of you to join me… finally. Though I’d advise against keeping your king waiting in future.”

“Apologies, _your majesty_.” she seethed, “You requested I be made presentable – it took longer than anticipated.”

Odin made a point of looking her up and down; her golden hair piled high upon her head, her freshly scrubbed skin almost glowing in bronze hues, [her choice of gown understated yet dignified](http://freudensteins-monster.tumblr.com/post/82982343905/edited-by-kate7695-liked-on-polyvore), the coral pink softening her severe facade.

Odin took her unoffered hand and pressed it to his lips. Sigyn shrank back, wondering as she felt Odin’s silver beared tickle her knuckles how an illusion could feel so real.

“Then it was well worth the wait. You look enchanting, my dear.”

Sigyn retrieved her hand and placed it behind her where it gripped its mate tightly lest she slap the Allfather in front of his royal guards. Odin went to her side, escorting her to the nearest chair.

“Shall we?”

Sigyn’s eyes said what her lips could not, but eventually she had to tear her furious gaze away and be seated. She cringed as Odin pushed in her chair, taking the opportunity to invade her personal space, brushing a coarse hand against her shoulder. It took every ounce of control Sigyn had not to strike him, it was made more difficult when she saw _Odin_ smiling at her clenched jaw and white knuckles.

Odin took his seat at the head of the table, smiling warmly as he bade his servers come forth. Sigyn gratefully took a glass of wine and gulped it greedily, slouching back in her seat avoiding eye contact with the Allfather, looking every bit the insolent dinner guest she was. Various dishes were set in front of them, some of them familiar, some of them exotic delicacies – Sigyn turned her nose up at all of them, content with her bottomless glass of wine and her study of the opposite wall.

“Please, eat something. If there’s something in particular you crave I will have the kitchen will make it for you. For dessert there will be poached pears, your favourite I believe.”

“I’m not hungry.” Sigyn replied bitterly, glaring at him, angry that he would remember such a trivial detail.

“The evening will go much faster if you participate in it. If eating is not to your liking you could at least attempt some polite conversation.”

“And what would you have me say, my king?”

“…How did you spend your day?”

“Dreading this evening,” she replied sharply, “And yours, my king?”

“Anticipating it.” He replied with an impish smile.

And so they awkward conversation continued; _Odin_ asking questions and Sigyn shooting them down, and the evening dragged on at a snails pace until Odin finally pushed his plate away, indicating to his servers that they should clear the table. As the servers retreated Odin rose from the table, Sigyn copied him and readied herself to depart, barely making the effort to bow as etiquette demanded.

“The hour grows late, you should retire to your chambers.” Odin offered.

 _You don’t have to tell me twice,_ Sigyn thought turning towards the main doors.

“I think you’ll find you’re going the wrong way.” Odin added smugly, causing Sigyn to freeze up.

“I really don’t think I am.” She turned back warily, her confusion met with a sly smile.

“If you continue back the way you came you will arrive at a dark and empty lodging.”

Sigyn inhaled sharply, her eyes wide in horror. Odin met her in the middle of the room, minimising the distance between them so that they could speak without being heard, Loki taking the opportunity to utilise his own voice.

“What did you do?” Sigyn asked in a frightened whispered.

“During dinner I had your belongings moved to the bedchambers across the hall from mine. You will reside there from this moment forward, you will be at my beck and call, and it will be your duty to do everything within your power to please me. You are now, officially, the King’s mistress. Does that not make you happy, Lady Sigyn?”

Sigyn’s face contorted in disgust, a hand grasping at her sickened stomach.

“You presume much.” She hissed in reply.

“Then I will leave the choice to you; stay or leave. Stay and you will have all the comforts you could desire – you will never want for anything ever again. Leave and you will be homeless, no status to cling to and no belongings but the fine dress you wear now.”

Sigyn scowled at him and turned on her heel, not needing to consider her options for a moment. She got no more than three steps away when Odin’s voice asked, “And what of Agata?” His words freezing her movements once more.

_Don’t you dare…_

“Stay… and Agata will move to the palace with you. She will always have work and be well treated. Leave and she will be on the streets alongside you.” Odin once again making up the distance between them allowing him to return to using his true voice.

“You may be willing to suffer to spite me, but could you tolerate the suffering of your beloved servant and only companion?”

Despair gripped Sigyn’s heart, she placed a hand over her mouth to still her sobbing.

“You truly are a monster, Loki.”

Loki sneered, “Smile my dear, lest you wish people to think that the idea of sharing the king’s bed does not appeal to you.”  

Odin bared one of Loki’s trademark smirks, “Ivar,” Odin’s voice called to the nearest guard, “Please escort Lady Sigyn to her new accommodations.”


	4. Chapter 4

Sigyn walked in a daze as she was led to her new gilded cage. Her escort pushing the large wooden doors open, waiting outside until she stepped forward, closing them after her. Sigyn would not have been surprised to hear the door bolted from the outside. Inside her meagre belongings had indeed been relocated to the generous bedchamber. Though her furniture – which would have been lost in the vastness of her new accommodations – had been replaced with furnishings better suited to a palatial setting, a large ornate timber framed bed, stained black and covered in an equally ornate gold quilt, took pride of place against the opposite wall. As Sigyn glanced around the room she felt a knot grow in her stomach – the twisted bastard had made this room almost a twin to his own former lodgings, though the soft coverings in his trademark green had been replaced, for the most part, with her former favourite colour.

 _This is sick._ Her stomach agreed causing Sigyn’s eyes to dart to an adjoining door. _Please be the washroom,_ Sigyn begged as she crossed the room. As she reached for the door it swung open revealing a maid, as startled as Sigyn, on the other side of it. The young woman immediately dropped her gaze and begged Sigyn’s forgiveness.

“Lady Sigyn, my apologies, I didn’t hear you come in.” she recovered quickly and stepped aside. “I’ve drawn your bath.”

Sigyn ran a hand over her face, frustrated and confused.

“I bathed not two hours ago, what possible need could I have of another?”

“I’m sorry, my lady,” the maid whimpered, “But I was told to have you made ready for the king’s arrival.”

Sigyn burst into tears. _The king, the king, the king…_ She wanted to kick and scream and fight against audacity of Loki and his unending selfishness but his spell kept her quiet, her face growing red with anger, her fists clenching intermittently as she tried desperately to communicate with the stunned servant.

Eventually Sigyn had to stop struggling against the spell and gasp for breath, falling to the floor in a heap by the maids feet. She composed herself, standing and wiping away her tears, avoiding the concerned stare of… whatever her name was.

“I best go freshen up then.” Sigyn muttered. Her maid made to follow but Sigyn raised a hand in protest. “I know you feel you must obey your king’s orders to the letter – and you fear his wrath more than mine – but I am a grown woman, fully capable of bathing myself. I haven’t been waited on in such a fashion for some time now and I shall not return to being cossetted. Do I make myself understood?”

The maid considered her answer carefully, “…yes, my lady.”

“Good. I won’t be but a moment.”

Sigyn closed the bathroom door, leaning against the smooth timber boards for support. The bathroom was just as lavish as the bed chamber, a huge ivory and gold tub at its centre. She had to admit that the warm scented bathwater was inviting but as it was Loki who ordered her to “make herself presentable” yet again, Sigyn felt compelled to resist in any small way. She went to the tub and filled her cupped hands, splashing it over her tearstained face. She stood up, allowing it to splatter over her gown before picking up a towel and drying herself. Sigyn took a deep breath and steeled herself for what was to come, not believing for a moment that Loki would have honourable intentions. She was unable to voice her fears and frustrations to the maid in the next room but when she was inevitably left alone with Loki she would, hopefully, be free to scream some sense into him, to fight him every inch of the way.

Sigyn emerged from the bathroom, her maid waiting vigilantly by the door holding a length of sheer fabric in her arms.

“The Allfather requested that you wear this,” she advised, offering Sigyn the [nearly non-existent negligee](http://achea-mpong.com/product/sheer-black-lace-embroided-gown/). She held it up, examining its utter lack of modesty and snorted disdainfully.  

“Of course he does…” Sigyn remarked, noticing that her maid did not even blush at the ridiculousness of the situation. No doubt the poor girl had been privy to much stranger, more intimate requests after waiting on the countless nobles and dignitaries that passed through the palace gates.

Sigyn sighed as she placed the delicate garment on her new bed. She began to pull her gown off her shoulders to find her maid standing behind her, too close for comfort, moving to assist her. Sigyn shot her a warning glare, the maid backing away slowly, choosing instead to busy herself locating a hair brush. Sigyn turned back to her bed and shed her gown, letting in drop unceremoniously to the floor. A loud _thunk_ startled her – there were no heavy embellishments on her gown – she turned to see her maid staring wide-eyed at her back, a heavy hairbrush at her feet. Sigyn caught her partial reflection in a mirror on the opposite wall, her eyes wandering over the interlacing pattern of angry scars that adorned her back. Sigyn smiled sadly at the maids horrified expression and her own stupidity – _How could I have forgotten?_ She had never been able to shift the knowledge of their existence from her mind before now, but then she had never had such an infuriating distraction as Loki Laufeyson since she earned her scars.

The maid faltered, her mouth still agape, before catching Sigyn’s amused gaze.

“P-perhaps…” she stuttered, “Perhaps I should get you something else to wear…”

“No.” Sigyn replied sharply, “He will see them eventually, no point delaying it.” _And perhaps it will end my degradation sooner. After all, since when did Loki enjoy playing with broken toys?_

Sigyn changed into the sheer nightgown, the maid keeping her distance, frozen to the spot.

“Was there anything else you were commanded to do?” Sigyn queried.

“What?” the maid asked, waking from her stupor.

“Was there anything else the king demanded you assist me with?” Sigyn repeated slowly.

“Uh, no… no, my lady.”

“Then you may leave, safe in the knowledge that you have done everything that was asked of you.”

“Yes, my lady.” She replied, fleeing Sigyn’s room.

Sigyn smirked as she picked up the abandoned hairbrush and went about releasing her hair from its bindings, hopeful in the knowledge that her greatest shame may yet be her greatest weapon against the insufferable false king.


	5. Chapter 5

Loki could feel the nervous energy surging through his vein like electricity. He hastened through Odin’s evening routine, dismissing his servants as quickly as possible. One handmaiden always lingered, anticipating some “extra” orders before returning to the servant’s quarters. This evening she was even more obvious in her desire to “be of service” to the king. The news of the appointment of an official courtesan had made its way around the palace in record time and it seemed the handmaiden wanted to try one last time to make it into king’s bed before Odin officially took his whore. Odin angrily swatted away her eager hands, sending her scurrying, her face red with embarrassment.

Alone at last Loki shuddered under his glamour, the very thought of taking lustful attentions meant for his father figure turned his stomach. _Foolish creature_. He pushed all thoughts of the silly little maid out of his mind, her eagerness and blind obedience of little interest to him.

 _Wherein lies the challenge?_ Loki mused, a smile playing on this lips as he thought about what awaited him across the hall. Sigyn’s newfound stubbornness intrigued him, the rage that lingered just beneath the surface of her cold exterior was strange new territory he wished to explore. _But maybe tomorrow night_ , he smirked thinking about all the other things he wanted to do to her in the meantime. It had been far too long since he had last had a woman, longer still since he had had one that had stimulated anything more than his anatomy. Loki began to pace before his chamber doors, his lustful thoughts almost whipping him into a frenzy. He wondered whether Sigyn would be wearing the dress he had chosen for her or whether she had ripped it to shreds and tossed it on the fire. Perhaps she would eschew clothing altogether and be waiting for him, wearing nothing but a strategically placed bed sheet. _One could always hope_ …

Loki ran a hand through his long, dishevelled hair and took a deep breath, forcing his true form to mirror Odin’s calm façade before stepping out into the hall. He pushed opened Sigyn’s door and stepped forth; a king does not bother knocking. He stood just inside the threshold as the door fell shut, his eyes fixed on the visage of Sigyn sitting at a window seat; back against the wall, arms wrapped around her, her calves exposed as the elaborate train of her dress spilled onto the floor.

Loki, sensing no one else in the chambers, locked the doors with a flick of his wrist and strode towards his newly appointed mistress, the glamour of Odin fading away.

“You sealed the doors and windows.” Sigyn muttered, not taking her eyes off the view.

“Couldn’t have you leaving before we had a chance to talk.”

“Hmph… I seriously doubt you bade me to wear this dress so we could ‘talk’.”

“No, I certainly did not…” Loki growled lowly, moving closer to Sigyn. He reached out to touch her exposed leg only to have her pull away from him.

“Do not touch me.” She said quietly.

“I will not be denied.” He spat back, immediately cursing his brazenness. He had not wanted to act so aggressively (so soon) but seeing her sitting there, nothing but a thin piece of fabric separating him from the body he so desired… His need was great and he had lost the patience to pretend otherwise.

“And so you will take what you want, even if it not given freely?” she asked without even a twinge of concern.

Loki leant down, taking her chin in his hands and forcing her to acknowledge him.

“I am the king, I will take what I want.”

Sigyn’s mouth curled in disgust as she pushed him away.

“You are no king,” she decried, “You are just a selfish boy playing games – as always.”

Loki grabbed Sigyn’s arm and dragged her off the window seat, forcing her to kneel at his feet.

“I am the king!” he shouted, barring his teeth. “And you will submit to me now Sigyn, just as you always did…”

Loki made to kiss her but Sigyn turned away, pushing off from him as she stumbled to her feet, his hand still firmly grasped around her arm.

“That was a long time ago, many things have changed. I am no longer so naïve as to think that being a vessel for your lust equates to being granted your love. I have no desire to be a mere vessel to anyone anymore.” Sigyn professed, her eyes cold and proud.

Loki held her fast, digging his fingers into her shoulders. He pressed his forehead to Sigyn’s, gritting his teeth in frustration as she continued to struggle.

“Please… I need you, Sigyn,” he begged, “I am losing myself in this deception. I need you to remind me who I am, I need to feel like myself again, and I was never more myself than when I was with you. I need you...”

“You need me? And I am to oblige you?” she sneered, “I am to come running back to stroke your precious ego and allow you to rediscover your truth - which is miraculously located between my thighs?!” she screamed, insulted by the very notion, “You want to be reminded of who you are? You are a heartless bastard, Loki! You are selfish and incapable of true affection. You take, and you take, and you take… and when you have no further use for people you cut them out of your life with no regard to their feelings, sparing no thought to the torment you have left them to. That is who you are, Loki, and I have no desire to make you think otherwise.”

Loki hissed, “You will not speak to me this way, my love. I will claim your body, and you will scream my name…”

“You will not have my body, not so long as I draw breath – you disgust me.”

Loki roared and threw Sigyn towards the bed. She stumbled, falling awkwardly against the side of it, landing in a crumpled heap as Loki stormed towards her. He lifted her by the hair and threw her face down on the bed, her long hair falling forwards to expose her back to Loki’s gaze for the first time. Loki stopped dead.

“What is this?” he stammered, his eyes frantically scanning Sigyn’s back, trying to make sense of what they were seeing. “What is this?” he shouted, pulling at her dress, the delicate fabric ripping easily to reveal the extent of Sigyn’s injuries, her once flawless skin now adorned with hundreds of overlapping scars, from the tops of her shoulders to the swell of her ass. Sigyn cried out and tried to push herself off the bed but Loki held her still, one hand against her hip, the other extending cautiously towards her scarred back. He flinched as his fingertips made contact with the raised skin. _These are real_ … And the more he looked the more detail he noticed. Once he managed to tear his eyes away from angriest of them (two of the largest gashes across her shoulder blades looked as though they could have been made with a carving knife instead of a lash) he could see how faded some of the smaller ones had become; this had not been a one-off punishment. This had been done to Sigyn over many weeks.

With an anguished sob Loki released Sigyn, who once again found herself cowering on the floor. It had been her intent to have Loki see her scars, and hopefully be shocked and repulsed by them, but she couldn’t help but feel humiliated, shamed and exposed. She wanted to be rid of Loki’s stare, rid of this stupid excuse for a dress. She wanted her old clothes back, the plain modest ones, she wanted to be back in her old chambers hiding away from the scrutiny of the world. _Why couldn’t he have just left me where I was?_

“Who did this?” Loki asked, “Who did this to you?”

“What does it matter?” she replied, unable to meet his eyes.

Loki knelt down beside her, as close as he dared without touching her marred skin.

“Who did this to you?” he asked again, a demanding whisper in her ear. “Somebody… has tortured you, Sigyn. I would have their name. And then their life.”

Sigyn could do naught but roll your eyes.

“Why do you care?” she hissed. “When you cast me aside you didn’t spare a thought for the agony I went through in the months that followed… Why would you care what has happened to me in the years since?”

“Because…” Loki faltered. He didn’t know how to answer her. _Why do I care?_ It was true that he had ended their relationship, badly. But he had thought of her from time to time, wondered what had become of her. When he had sought her out upon his rise to the throne and found her as yet unmarried he felt a great surge of excitement at the thought of reigniting the fire of their passion (not that her marriage in the interim would have changed his desires), he never thought he would find her this changed. But he couldn’t explain himself to Sigyn so he tried altering his approach.

“Why was this done to you?”

Sigyn glared at him, “Because of you.”

Loki’s mind reeled, his face contorted in anguish.

“What?”

“There was a price to be paid for loving you,” she replied, “And I paid it… in blood and tears.” Sigyn’s eyes bore into Loki’s, her voice so full of hate Loki could scarcely believe it was the same voice that had once whispered sweet nothings in his ear in midnight hours. “Never again.”

Loki reached out to caress her cheek but Sigyn would not permit him, shoving him in the chest so suddenly that he lost his balance and fell to the floor.

“Leave me be, Loki.” She pleaded, “Get out of my fucking room.” He made to get closer to her to beg her indulgence but her patience had long since dissipated. “GET OUT!”

Loki recoiled in shock, Sigyn still screaming at him as he rose and stumbled towards the door.

With Loki’s overwhelming presence gone Sigyn struggled to her feet, her gown threatening to fall in tatters around her waist. She leapt at the window, slapping her hands against the glass but it would not yield to her. She fell to her knees, resting her weary head on the window seat, eventually giving in to exhaustion despite the screams and sounds of furniture breaking that emanated from across the hall.

*** *** ***

Loki stormed about his chambers cursing the heavens and letting off blasts of seidhr at random intervals. By the time he had destroyed most of the available furniture he had calmed down enough to think clearly.

_Well… that did not go at all to plan._

Loki sat in the centre of his room, leaning against the large golden bed, running a hand over his face in frustration.

_My poor Sigyn… what has befallen you?_


	6. Chapter 6

The sun was high over Asgard before Sigyn roused from her fitful dreams. She glanced around the room, wiping sleep from her eyes as she struggled to get her bearings. She remembered resting against the window seat but now found herself in bed wearing a simple night dress – the black lace monstrosity nowhere to be seen. She couldn’t remember being moved but with the powers that Loki possessed it was no doubt easy for him. Sigyn’s stomach dropped for a moment as she speculated what else Loki could have done to her while she slept.

A maid appeared from the bathroom, cutting her panic short.

“My lady, your bath is ready.”

 _Again with the bath?_ She seethed, but the longer Sigyn thought about it the more appealing a long hot soak sounded. After several blissful minutes it became clear that an ice bath would have been more appropriate, the soothing waters serving only to relax her, making a return to her bed sound more attractive. When Sigyn was finally coerced out of the bath and forcibly towel dried by two diligent maids she returned to bedchamber to find it filled with flowers, large ornate vases full of bright bouquets placed on every available surface. Sigyn almost choked on the overwhelming amount perfume filling her rather sealed off bedroom. Before she had a chance to comment the maids reappeared before her, each brandishing several gowns for her to try on, throwing around a dozen questions, not really caring for her answers as they held up different gowns against her skin wondering aloud if the colour was complimentary.

“No, please, just…”

Before Sigyn could finish a third maid, previously hidden behind a ridiculously large bunch of flowers, appeared holding several ornate necklaces. She quickly joined in the conversation with her fellow gibbering maids, now adding jewellery to the fashion equation and asking was less really more?

“ENOUGH!” Sigyn shouted. All mouths clamped shut, all eyes turned to her. Sigyn pointed at the offending maids as she spoke, “You two, put the dresses down. You, put the jewellery away. Then all over you, step outside.”

“But, my lady…”

“NOW.”

The maids bustled about, unloading the fineries where they could before retreating out of the room, closing the door behind them.

Sigyn sighed and sat on the bed, staring at the pile of fine dresses next to her. _This bombardment is Loki’s way of apologising?_ She picked out [the plainest dress](http://freudensteins-monster.tumblr.com/post/83896208867/roland-mouret-giallo-gown-liked-on-polyvore) she could find and dressed herself, pulling her damp hair up in a messy bun. She slipped on a pair of simple flats and headed out the door, ignoring the mesmerising glint of the jewellery laid out along the length of a table. Sigyn stepped out into the hallway and was immediately accosted by her servants, all begging that she let them fix her hair and apply her makeup. Sigyn waved them off.

“I want all of that gone before I return.” She said pointing behind her.

“My lady?”

“All the flowers. Get them out of my room, it’s ridiculous – and the smell is overpowering.” Sigyn hesitated, “All but the roses near the mirror. They can stay.” 

“My lady?”

“What?”

The maid who had been in charge of the jewellery reached into the pocket of one of her aprons and retrieved a small ring box.

“The king requested that you be given this.”

Sigyn reluctantly took it, knowing it was the only way to get the maids to leave her be. She stared at the small box as she wandered down the hallway, curiosity eventually getting the better of her she pried it open and gasped. _It couldn’t be…_

Inside was a [ring of black gold](https://www.etsy.com/au/listing/170535442/art-masters-14k-black-gold-30-ct-chatham?ref=market) of an intricate design; a radiant emerald clasped in a flower guarded by two hissing serpents. It was not something Sigyn would have ever chosen for herself but she had cherished it once. It was the same ring that Loki had gifted her many years ago, a token of his affection he had said… the same ring Sigyn had thrown at Loki’s feet after he had turned her away and taken another into his bed.

 _How could he?_ Angry tears threatened to fall as Sigyn glared at the ring. She curled her fist around the open box and hurled it down the hallway, but it was only the box that fell, the ring having magically made its way onto her middle finger.

“Bastard…” Sigyn hissed as she tried to remove it.

As she struggled one of Odin’s personal guards approached.

“Lady Sigyn?”

“Oh, what now?” she snapped.

“I am to escort you the dining hall. Now.” He added as Sigyn glared at him.

Sigyn sighed, giving up on the ring for the moment, hoping to convince Loki to remove this painful memento over breakfast.

*** *** ***

Odin was seated alone at the head of the long dining table reviewing the morning’s correspondence when Sigyn was ushered into the hall. She stormed over to him, her eyes angry but tired, the simple navy gown covering almost every expanse of flesh, a comfort Loki felt she might have desired after the previous evening.

“Good morrow, Lady Sigyn,” Odin smiled, “Thank you for joining me.”

Sigyn sat down in a huff. “You speak as though I had a choice,” she snarled quietly as a server approached with pitcher of water.

“There is always a choice,” he muttered, not glancing up from this papers. “How did you fare this morning? Was it to your liking?”

“No.” she said sharply.

“No?” Odin queried.

“It’s ridiculous, please stop it.”

“Stop what?”

“The flowers, the maids, the dresses, the jewellery – all of it.”

Odin mulled it over, humming, “I may be convinced to tone it down somewhat, but it will not cease. You are the king’s concubine, appearances must be maintained.”

“I am the king’s prisoner.” Sigyn corrected, “And I would feel more comfortable locked away in a bare cell than in that room constantly lavished with attention and finery.” Sigyn glanced down at her hand, “And speaking of finery,” she said with a grimace, displaying Loki’s ring in a somewhat offensive Midgardian gesture. “Remove it.”

“No.”

Sigyn wanted to vent her frustrations further but Loki’s spell held her tongue as the servant returned with a platter of fresh fruits, which she promptly ignored.

“You must eat, Sigyn.” Odin commented, studying her, “You’ve barely touched your food since you arrived, you must be famished.”

“I am not hungry.” She replied disdainfully.

“You are only punishing yourself.” He quipped.

“May I leave?” she asked curtly, ignoring what might possibly be considered concern.

“Very well, but I expect you back here for supper so that I can watch you can play with your food some more.”

Sigyn rolled her eyes and left the hall without so much as a curtsey. She wandered the halls of the palace, wondering how she was supposed to wile away her hours until weariness descended and she was had little option but to return to her room. Escape was at the forefront of her mind, despite Loki’s threats to take such disloyalty out on Agata. Guiltily Sigyn considered several exits from the palace, but every time she neared the doors guards would magically appear and questioned her motives. Eventually she abandoned her search, a persistent nagging in her stomach reminded her that, despite refusing to eat at Loki’s behest, she did in fact require sustenance. She quickly found her bearings and headed towards the nearest kitchen, eyes downcast to avoid having to interact with anyone else. As she stepped inside the bustling kitchen the servants barely acknowledged her presence.

“Is there something you need, my lady?” queried one of the senior kitchen staff, glancing looking up from her pastries.

“I…” Sigyn faltered, suddenly embarrassed for interrupting those hard at work, unlike her, “I just wanted to get something to eat. I… missed breakfast.”

“Your maids could have brought you something to eat.” The cook grunted, frustrated with the interruption.

“Oh, I wouldn’t want to bother them, besides, I was walking passed…” Sigyn replied feebly.

“Lady Sigyn?”

Sigyn turned to the speaker, her old maid Agata walking in from the nearby garden, potatoes gathered in her apron.

“Agata!”

Sigyn dashed over to her, almost bowling over two servers in her haste. She wrapped her arms around Agata, hugging her tightly, the servant standing awkwardly unable to move her hands from her apron.

“My lady?”

“Are you alright?”

“Of course, I’m alright, my lady. What’s gotten into you?”

Sigyn pulled away, her eyes rimmed with tears.

“Have you not heard?”

“Of your new appointment – of course I have! Well done you!”

“How can you say that?”

Agata hushed her former employer as she dumped the contents of her apron into a pail of water and began scrubbing the dirt from their skins.

“You serve the king himself, my lady. There is no greater honour in all of Asgard. You should be grateful the king chose you – you had so few prospects. What was to happen to you once your father’s gold ran out?”

“This isn’t a reward, Agata!” Sigyn hissed under her breath, not wishing to be caught speaking ill of the king, such as he was.

“There are worse things, my lady.” Agata’s eyes pleaded with her former mistress, begged her see just how lucky she was. She rinsed her hands and passed Sigyn a shining red apple from a nearby bowl as the head of the kitchen scowled at her.

“Now, off you go. The kitchens are no place for a lady. Why don’t you go explore your new home? The gardens are lovely this time of year.”

Sigyn begrudgingly accepted the apple and stepped backwards into the doorway.

“Could I… could I come and see you again?” she asked quietly.

“Of course, my lady. Any time you like.” Agata replied with a feigned smile. They both knew how unlikely it was that they would be permitted to speak like this again, whatever familiarity they had gained over the past few years would be replaced by the strict social order of the palace, but pretending like it wouldn’t be the last time made it easier to walk away.

*** *** ***

Sigyn strolled amongst the gardens, their beauty barely registering as she chewed absently on the crunchy apple. She threw the core away into the closest garden bed before taking a seat on a stone bench and staring out at the palatial setting before her. In the distance she could make out the edge of the Bifrost, the sound of the crashing waves growing louder the longer she stared.

“Look who we have here…”

Sigyn was wrenched out of her trance by the tittering of courtiers. She turned to find a small gaggle of them, all dressed in rich fabrics and heavy jewellery, gawking at her, gossiping behind their bejewelled hands. The leader of the group stepped forward, her blood-red dress testing the limits of good taste as her large breasts threatened to burst forth from her plunging neckline. She was ridiculously beautiful but, Sigyn thought, by the way she carried herself she seemed the sort of women to whom looks and status were everything – if she were to wake up tomorrow a plain woman of modest means her life would be over. Sigyn would have hated her instantly if she didn’t already know her and loathe her entirely.

“You must be the new concubine everyone’s been talking about. What was your name again? I’m afraid it’s slipped my mind.”

“My name is Sigyn. And you are Kata, yes?”

“That’s _Lady_ Kata, if you please.”

Sigyn scoffed, “You’ve moved up in the world, I see.”

“And you’ve sunk so low.” Kata purred. “But after bedding a Frost Giant, there isn’t anywhere else to go, is there?” Kata’s friends laughed amongst themselves at their fearless leaders “stinging” barb. “Your appointment as Odin’s official courtesan has caused quite a stir. Surely the king knows of your dalliances – why in the Nine would he want a woman tainted by his own bastard son?”

“Surely you mean, why didn’t he want you?” The gaggle of women gasped, Kata glared. “I bet the day Queen Frigga died you were cursing yourself for getting married. You’ve probably even thought of ways to extricate yourself from your vows so that you could be free to pursue… other employment opportunities.”

“How dare you!”

“No, how dare you!” Sigyn spat, rising from her seat, “How dare you think yourself above me when we all know it is sheer jealousy that inspires your goading. And has the simple act of marriage caused you to forget your past so easily? You were nothing more than a whore when last I saw you, you gave yourself to any man with gold enough in his pockets – including Loki.”

Kata stepped closer and hissed at Sigyn, “Do not spread lies – I never lay with that disgusting monster.”

“He was a prince of Asgard once,” Sigyn countered, “and as soon as he turned his gaze from me you made the most of the opportunity. I saw you together.” Sigyn whispered, “He made certain of it.”

Lady Kata’s face went as red as her dress as she stumbled backwards. She managed to spit the word “whore” in Sigyn’s general direction before stalking off, her fellow courtiers chasing after her.

Sigyn walked off in the opposite direction, back to her rooms, and regardless of the overabundance of flowers she planned to stay there as long as possible. She had had enough of people for one day.

*** *** ***

Odin sat at the head of the table in the crowded dining hall partaking in conversations with several of his advisors as Sigyn, seated to his left, pushed food around her plate and nursed a goblet of wine.

“And what do you think, Lady Sigyn?”

Sigyn glanced up, several sets of eyes stared expectantly at her.

“Ah… I’m afraid I was not paying attention, my king.”

“The farmers to the south are complaining of poor crops and have requested assistance from the throne. What would you advise?”

Sigyn stared at “Odin” wondering why in the Nine he insisted in trying to engage her in his stupid farce.

“Cleave their heads from their shoulders, my king. They will soon stop complaining.”

Odin stared at her as some of his advisors laughed nervously.

“You must forgive the Lady Sigyn for her curtness, she has not been getting much rest of late.”

His advisors laughed at this, louder but still nervous, and Sigyn went back to staring at her food and refilling her wine goblet.

Loki had been worried about her after last night and had taken to ghosting her throughout the day in the guise of various palace staff. He had gone unnoticed in the form of a gardener trimming hedges as Sigyn and Kata had their confrontation. Loki’s heart rose into his throat as he watched the two women exchange insults. Bedding _Lady_ Kata had not been one of his proudest moments. When had first tried cutting Sigyn out of life she had clung on desperately, begging him to explain his change of heart, so instead… he showed her. He first took Kata against the door to his bedchamber, knowing full well that Sigyn would see them together, having asked her to his rooms at that same time. Kata hadn’t seemed to notice the heartbroken Sigyn standing at the end of the hallway, being too busy perfecting her breathy moans, but Loki had. At the time he revelled in her pain, taking satisfaction in his ruse, knowing Sigyn would keep her distance from then on, but now… it pained him. He felt a twinge of guilt and regret - not enough to make him apologise for his actions, yet enough for him to think, for a moment, that he was worthy of punishment.

 _Punishment…_ The word rolled around in his mind for the remainder of the day, an idea forming, and by the time Sigyn had made her appearance at dinner Loki was certain it was the best course of action, and if all went to plan the results would be spectacular.

As the night drew to a close Odin excused himself from the table, bidding Sigyn do the same. They walked in silence towards the bed chambers, Sigyn dreading what was the come next, ready to put up another fight, but Loki was anticipating that Sigyn would enjoy it more than she ever thought possible.


	7. Chapter 7

Loki took Sigyn’s hand, leading her into her suite, and as he closed the door he gestured to a small table off to the side. Upon it sat several items of leather and metal, some which Sigyn had become all too familiar with during the course of her punishments. Fear gripped her heart; she wrenched herself from Loki’s grasp and turned for the door. But Loki, swift as ever, positioned himself between her and the main exit, bolting it shut. She turned to escape him but Loki wrapped his arms around her waist, holding her struggling form against his chest.

“Calm yourself, Sigyn. They are not for you.” Sigyn stopped struggling long enough for Loki to set her feet back down upon the stone floor. He released her and Sigyn immediately pushed away from him, pressing herself against the wall. “They are not for you,” he repeated softly, stepping away from her with his arms outstretched and his open palms presented to her.

“If you don’t mean to torture me with them, why are they here? Why would you show them to me?” she cried out in anguish.

Loki stopped in the centre of the room and began to disrobe, quickly and quietly unfastening his armour and removing his boots. Sigyn stared, mouth agape, her face twisted in confusion as Loki removed his tunic and knelt before her wearing naught but his leather trousers. Sigyn tried to look away, the sight of his bare chest – his pale skin, lithe frame and taut muscles – bringing too many now painful memories to the forefront of her mind.

“They are for me,” he said finally, “I am at your mercy, my lady. Punish me as you see fit, it is only fair.”

“Fair?!” she shouted back, hot tears stinging her eyes.

 _Yes…_ thought Loki, _Finally!_ Sigyn’s rage had been simmering quietly since he had first revealed himself to her, and with this final gesture, this one simple sentence, Loki could feel Sigyn about to explode in a righteous fury.

Sigyn glared at her former lover; even in this submissive pose she could feel him mocking her.

“Fair!” she spat, standing before him, her anger radiating from her like a wildfire. Before she realised what was happening her open palm connected with his smug face, red welts appearing on his porcelain flesh almost instantly. “You think this will make us even?” she scoffed, “No punishment I could conceive would be sufficient enough to make us even. Nothing I could ever do would ever hurt you the way that I have been hurt! I can never forgive you!”

“That’s it my love, let it all out.” Loki said with the smallest hint of a smile.

Sigyn scowled and slapped him again.

“Don’t ever say that word to me again!” she screeched, “You, Loki Laufeyson, are incapable of love! [ _SLAP!_ ]You have never meant it! [ _SLAP!_ ]Not once! [ _SLAP!_ ]In your miserable! [ _SLAP!_ ]Life! [ _SLAP!_ ] _”_

Sigyn stepped back for a moment, ignoring her stinging palms, her chest heaving from the sudden exertion. She leant down to him, almost nose to nose, and hissed menacingly, “If you dare say that vile word to me again… I will cut out your contemptible silver tongue and feed it to the crows.”

Loki chuckled softly, “Whatever you say, my love.”

Sigyn leant back and struck him again, this time with the back of her hand, the ring Loki gifted her leaving a deep gash across his cheek. Sigyn gasped, the shock of seeing blood dripping down Loki’s unnaturally ruddy complexion halting her anger. She stepped away from him, her hands shaking. She had never struck anyone before today, _What have I done?_

Sigyn ran from him, disgusted and frightened, and seeking isolation in the bathroom, slamming the doors behind her.

*** *** ***

The first slap surprised him, Loki had to admit. True, it was the outcome he had hoped for, but to see the fire ignite in her cold eyes and to feel even the smallest amount of the rage trapped within her… it truly surpassed any expectations he had of the demure Lady Sigyn.

A lesser god – a wiser god - would have felt a twinge of fear in the face of such fury, Loki, however, fanned the flames.

_“That’s it my love, let it all out.”_

The next bout of slaps made his head spin, her words barely reaching his ears but when she stopped her assault to threaten further violence Loki couldn’t help but beam with pride.

_Forget gowns and gems and useless trinkets – I should get her a blade. Oh, the havoc my vengeful queen could wreak._

“Ah!” Loki cried, caught off-guard as the sharp edges of Sigyn’s ring tore at the flesh on his left cheek. Loki glanced up at his ladylove to see her face twisted in panic. _No! You were making such progress!_

With the slamming of the bathroom doors Loki got to his feet slowly, smiling as he touched his battered face gingerly. _It’s a start._

He followed Sigyn into the bathroom to find her kneeling on the floor, sobbing as she struggled to remove the bloodied ring from her finger. He gave her a wide berth and approached her cautiously, like hunter would a wounded creature caught in a trap. Sigyn froze when she saw him, flinching slightly as he reached out to take her hand. He tsked softly as his eyes wandered over her swollen knuckles – she had almost dislocated her finger trying to pry the ring off. Loki raised her hand to his lips and, eyes locked on hers, inserted her finger languidly into his mouth. Sigyn inhaled sharply and tried to pull away but his grip was unrelenting and she was too tired to fight him. He suckled on her strained digit, his eyes speaking in lustful volumes. Eventually the ring slipped over Sigyn’s inflamed joint. Loki removed her finger from his mouth and presented the recovered ring to his distressed lover by balancing it on the tip of his protruding tongue. Sigyn scoffed at the lewd gesture and turned away from him.

Loki took the ring out of his mouth and chuckled before taking Sigyn’s hand again and pushing it into her palm, closing her fingers around it. He held her hand that way for some time to ensure she didn’t hurl it across the bathroom as she no doubt wanted to do.

“Why are you doing this to me?” Sigyn asked gloomily.

“I’m not doing anything to you – you’re doing it to me.”

“Why?”

“Because I deserve it,” he stated matter-of-factly. “I am deserving of your wrath, I deserve to be punished for the ills that have befallen you. And you have more claim than most to be the one who punishes me.”

“To what end, Loki? I will not forgive you. I… I hate you too much.”

“Then use it, please! Take your anger out on me; punish me every day til Ragnorok if that is what is required for you to find some semblance of peace.”

“What peace do you think there is for me? You wish me to be happy as you slave – your mistress? That will not happen.”

“We shall see…”

Loki stood and held out a hand to Sigyn, who refused it, but instead of insisting Loki simply turned and exited the bathroom, leaving Sigyn a bewildered mess attempting to decipher some hidden meaning in what he had said.

She opened her palm and stared at the ring, a gaudy reminded of everything she had once had, everything she had lost, and no sooner had she thought about throwing it out the window than it constricted around her finger once more. She cursed Loki for the hundredth time and willed the tears not to fall. She loathed the affect he had on her, loathed his very presence, and feared the day when her need to extricate herself from Loki’s grasp surpassed her desire to spare her former maid any torment.

Sigyn eventually emerged from her bathroom prepared for bed – though not prepared for the sight of Loki kneeling shirtless, hands clasped behind his back, at the foot of it. She shook her head disdainfully. Was it too much to ask, after all that had happened, that he leave her alone?

“Go away, Loki.”

“We have an appointment.”

“No, we don’t.” she replied sternly.

“You are to take your frustrations out on me until you gain peace – or until Ragnarok comes. That is what we agreed.”

“I didn’t agree to anything. _You_ said it, _you_ are demanding it.Like always, _my_ opinion on the matter is of little consequence.”

She made to sink down into the mattress but out of the corner of her eye she noticed the table of vicious implements Loki had prepared and felt her chest constrict and her breathing become shallow. Sigyn’s hand shook as neared the tools, retrieving [a small dagger](http://thumb9.shutterstock.com/display_pic_with_logo/540517/117057346/stock-photo-roman-ancient-dagger-117057346.jpg) from the collection (that had not been there a moment ago) before hiding the rest from her view, covering them with throw rug.

Sigyn climbed into bed and pulled the covers up, attempting to make herself comfortable despite her audience.

“Go away, Loki. I wish to sleep.”

“No.”

Sigyn glared at Loki’s smug face.

“So be it.” Sigyn replied with an exaggerated sigh, “but if you attempt to touch me whilst I sleep,” she said with just a touch of malice, showing Loki the small dagger, “I shall take your hands. Do I make myself clear?”

“Perfectly.” Loki purred, waving a hand theatrically to magically extinguish the lanterns in Sigyn’s room, leaving only a thin sliver of moonlight for them to see each other by. Sigyn rolled her eyes and slumped down onto her downy pillow, burying the blade beneath it, willing sleep to come fast and help her forget the constant intrusions of Loki.

“Goodnight, Sigyn.”

“Shut up, Loki.”


	8. Chapter 8

After half an hour Loki knees began to pain him. An hour after that and they were screaming, but Loki refused to budge. What if he did and Sigyn roused from her sleep to see him slinking away? _No,_ _she will not see me falter._ His pride steeled himself against the pain but his magic cushioned his joints and supported his aching limbs. His pride sneered. _What?_ his lethargy countered, _It’s not like she can see it._

Comfortable for the time being Loki tried to distract his mind by studying the refraction of the moonlight through the bedroom windows as it danced across Sigyn’s sleeping form. He watched her closely, watching the way the light caused her to hair to seemingly glow in the darkened room, the way her unrestrained chest moved ever so slightly as she breathed in and out, in… and out…

“Mmm…” Loki bit his lower lip. Forget physical violence – this was true torture.

Sigyn murmured and tossed in her sleep. Loki cursed himself; _It could be me in that bed with her, me making her moan, me making her writhe in the pleasure..._

 _Patience,_ his thoughts cautioned. If all went to plan Loki believed, stubbornly so, that Sigyn’s rage would soon give way to her true feelings and in a feverish fit of passion she would give herself to him willingly, rendering his victory that much sweeter. Loki could see it clear as day, and he wanted it so much more than to claim her body now, so he would wait. …but, he thought with a smirk, it couldn’t hurt to have a little fun whilst he waited.

Loki extended a sorcerous hand and slowly removed the covers from Sigyn’s unconscious form. Her nightdress had twisted in her sleep and was now resting above her knees, Loki licked his lips wolfishly at the sight of her bare legs, the desire to have them wrapped around his waist once more almost unbearable. With utmost control he sent the smallest spark of magic, a tiny orb of energy glowing eerily in his trademark green, to rest on the tips of her toes. It danced there for a moment before settling on the top of her foot and traversing slowly, in languid spirals, along the length of her calf. Both Loki and his magical orb froze as Sigyn sighed softly in her sleep, rubbing her legs together, trying to displace whatever it was that was teasing her sensitive flesh. Confident that Sigyn was still enveloped in her dreams Loki bade his little electric orb continue its journey towards the centre of her being, soon reaching her soft thighs.

Loki’s own hand instructed the orbs attack; the feeling of fingertips lightly grazing her skin here, the sensation of a strong hand gripping her tightly there… Sigyn moaned adoringly as she rolled onto her back, pressing her thighs together in frustration. With his free hand Loki summoned a second energy orb and directed it towards Sigyn’s trembling breasts, circling her nipples, teasing them to attention, the occasional minute shock causing her to gasp ecstatically. Loki left that spark to it ruminations and focused his attentions lower, and then lower still. The first pulsating green light reached the apex of Sigyn’s thighs, disappearing under her bedclothes. What Loki lacked in sight he made up for with oh-so-fond memories; he remembered every peak and valley of Sigyn’s supple body, every warm, dark crevice, every tiny expanse of flesh that required only the lightest of touches to make her go…

“Aaah!” Sigyn cried out, biting her fingertips, writhing in her sleep as Loki’s magic teased her ruthlessly bringing her closer to her undoing.

*** *** ***

Sigyn tossed and turned in her bed, distracted by Loki’s presence, but eventually weariness overcame her and dreams prevailed…

Sigyn awoke on a dark chaise lounge, a book resting on her chest. _How late it must be._ She rose quickly and turned to the impressive bookshelves that lined half the bedchamber. He would be returning soon, _and you know how much he hates his belongings being out of place._ Sigyn reached up on the tips of her toes to return the leather-bound volume to its home. As she lowered herself back down two elegant hands appeared by her sides, his fingertips grazing against the soft fabric of her golden gown.

“And where were you this evening?” his dark velvety voice asked.

Sigyn turned and glanced upwards, her amber eyes meeting two piercing spheres of emerald. Loki stood before her, still wearing his ceremonial armour and that ridiculous helmet. How she loathed that absurd thing, it made him look so strange and imposing, adding two feet of unnecessary height. Every time she saw him wearing it she had the sudden urge to relieve him of it and hurl it across the room.

“Well, as much fun as it is to watch Odin glare as Thor quaffs his ale, and to see you standing around sombrely though you were posing for a statue,” she smirked, flicking a fingernail against one of the protruding golden horns, “I thought I’d abstain just this once.”

“I missed you,” he growled, taking a step forward essentially trapping her against timber shelving.

“That was the point,” she replied mischievously, her smile growing wide. He ran a finger seductively around the neckline of her dress, teasing it off her shoulders, closing what little distance there was between them as he slowly exposed her breasts. “For the love the Nine, Loki. Remove those pretentious garments and that obscene helmet,” she pleaded longingly.

“And have you forget that you are in the presence of royalty?” Loki asked, feigning injury.

“Oh!” Sigyn cried with an exaggerated roll of her eyes, “How could I ever forget.”

She curled her fingers around the metal collar of Loki’s armour and pulled him in for a kiss only to curse as the brow of his helm struck her forehead.

“For heaven sakes, Loki! Take off that stupid helmet!”

“You mock the symbol of my station?”

“Yes, I mock it! I mock its impracticality during interpersonal relations. Now… Take. It. Off.”

Loki smiled mischievously, “Impractical, you say? I shall have to prove you wrong.”

“Must you turn everything into a game?” Sigyn bemoaned, “Why can’t you just take me here?”

“Oh, I intend to.”

Loki pressed his body against hers causing Sigyn to inhale sharply as the cold metal of his armour struck her exposed flesh, hardening her peaks instantly. He knelt before her dragging her gown down the length of her body as he went. Sigyn, leaning naked against the shelving, stared down at her lover in his golden horned helmet, his green cape falling behind him.

“You look ridiculous.”

“And you,” Loki replied hungrily, “Look absolutely divine.”

Sigyn moaned in anticipation as Loki pressed his mouth to her mound, peppering her inner thighs with soft kisses and languid strokes of his tongue. Sigyn’s fingernails scraped along his helm as lavished attention on her clit. Loki lifted one of her legs over his shoulder as he ran his tongue up and down the length of her slit. As he teased her entrance she gasped and Loki took advantage of her distraction, placing her other leg over his shoulder and leaned backwards, his fingers grasping at her ass, lifting Sigyn off of the bookshelf, leaving her only the horns of his helm to cling to as he buried his tongue inside her. Sigyn…

…fell. She was on the cold hard ground, her hands and thighs gripping Loki’s helmet, but the rest of him was nowhere to be seen.

“Loki?”

Darkness descended and Sigyn found herself far from the familiarity of Loki’s chambers, lost in a never-ending maze. She clung to the helmet hoping that Loki would come back for it, for her, but when she heard the crack of the whip behind her she dropped it and ran for her life.


	9. Chapter 9

Sigyn tore herself from her nightmare, screaming and thrashing, brandishing the blade from beneath her pillow. She gasped for air, her lungs burning, kneeling on the mattress turning this way and that, trying to lay eyes on her attacker. Slowly her eyes adjusted to the gloom reminding her where she was, and more importantly where she was not. She calmed her breathing and lowered her weapon, glancing at Loki who was still knelt at the foot of the bed staring at her, his hands raised as to protest his innocence. Sigyn turned and placed her feet on the floor, her face creased in confusion as she adjusted her nightgown and the wetness between her thighs registered.

She shot a glance at Loki who in turn averted his gaze, the bastard even had the audacity to whistle nonchalantly. Sigyn fumed, rising from her bed, dagger in hand.

“What did you do?” she spat.

“I have no idea what you mean.”

“Liar!” her cry punctuated by a loud crack as the butt of her blade connected with Loki’s thick skull.

“What. Did. You. Do?” she repeated, her voice low and dangerous.

“Ow!” Loki exclaimed, waiting for the pain to subside, “It was nothing… just a little energy ball to… help you relax.”

Sigyn plunged the blade into the bedframe behind her out of fear that she might give in to her urges and slit his throat. Instead she stood before him and without warning slapped him with the back of her hand.

“You didn’t do this for me. This was for you – all of this farce is for you, you and your fragile ego. You cannot comprehend a world in which I don’t fawn at your feet, can you?”

Loki laughed and Sigyn slapped him again. What she said was true, Loki couldn’t understand how Sigyn’s love for him could have faded so – it had always seemed to him to be a universal constant.

“If there is a world in which do not love me, it is not this one.” Loki said with a smirk, “You cannot hate me so much and not love me – it is an impossibility; Hate and love are two sides of the same coin, my dear.”

“Is that so?” Sigyn asked cynically. Loki nodded his head in response, a smug smile playing on this thin lips. “Then I shall show you the extent of my love for you…” she said quietly, moving towards to table laid out with implements of torture, pulling away the throw rug. Her eyes wandered over them wondering what would prove most efficient in stripping the God of Lies of his pride and ego. She hesitated when she spied an item she feared more than all others – she would have Loki share in her fears before the sun rose.

Sigyn stood before him allowing him to see the weapon in her hands; something of a horsewhip though the leather strap was wider.

“This was one of his favourites.” Sigyn said, referring to her anonymous torturer, “Some days he would purposely attempt to carve the flesh from my bones, leave me writhing in agony for days in order to give his arm a reprieve.”

Sigyn moved behind Loki, her eyes wandering ravenously over his exposed back, wondering how far she was prepared go, if she was willing to become what she feared most. But as her fingers curled around the braided leather handle she felt fear give way to a strange new feeling, one of control, of power, and in that moment Sigyn began to understand how much better it was to be the conqueror than the conquered.

Loki smirked inwardly as he gripped the bedframe, preparing himself for the fall of the lash. When he was last with Sigyn she had been a quiet, delicate flower; kind, calm, diplomatic … never a harsh word for anyone – except him, and even then she could never stay mad for more than a moment. She had seemed immune to the stresses of the world, and wherever she went the realm was brighter for it. But now darkness infused her very being, she wore it like a gown of midnight, a train of fog and foaming rage trailing behind her. Loki was coming to realise that some things could never be undone, that she would never be that smiling carefree woman again, but in all honesty he was delighted. The man he had been would have been distraught to see Sigyn now, and the man he was now would have squeezed the life out of the Sigyn that was. But here, now _… how perfectly matched we are_.

Loki hissed as the whip fell, revelling in the sting.

“I hate you.” Sigyn muttered, more to herself than to Loki as she let fly with the lash. She stuck him again and again, waiting until he cried out to inform her of just the perfect amount of force required to truly make him suffer.

In between lashes Sigyn spoke to him, her voice low and cold though her heart raced with the thrill of it.

“I hate you.”

_“Ah!”_

“So much.”

_“Mm!”_

“It took me a while…”

“…!”

“Being the silly lovesick girl that I was…”

“…!”

“But you made it easy.”

_“Fuck…”_

“You cast me aside without so much as an explanation!”

_“Fuck! Ah…”_

“You made me feel no more than a common whore!”

_“Sigyn!”_

“But even worse than that…”

_“Aaah!”_

“Before all that…”

_“Oh gods!”_

“You made me love you!!”

_“Fuck!”_

“I will never forgive you for that!!”

_“FUCK!!”_

Sigyn was unrelenting, her anger unrivalled, her curses as biting as the lash. Loki gasped and choked, unable to catch his breath between assaults, the tender flesh of his back aflame. The excruciating heat snaked along his limbs and through his aching ribs, his body constricting in absolute agony.

_…You will long for something as sweet as pain…_

“STOP!” Loki screamed out in terror. Sigyn, all too familiar with the difference, hesitated mid-swing. “Please, Sigyn... Stop. No more. Please…”

Sigyn dropped the whip in shock and if her jaw could join it on the floor it would have. _When was the last time he said “please”?_ Sigyn stared at her bloody handiwork, at the convulsing, broken form of Loki, and in the midst of her satisfaction she couldn’t help but feel concern for her fallen prince.

“That wasn’t because of me, was it?” she asked, dabbing sweat from her brow.

“…no.” Loki managed to choke out, “I have done many regrettable things in this accursed life of mine… Abandoning you, though cruel, was not the worst of my crimes.”

Loki pressed his forehead to the bedframe, trying to push all thoughts of The Other and its master out of his mind. He cursed himself and his foolishness, laughing to stop from crying.

“What, pray tell, is so amusing?” a bemused Sigyn queried.

“I was just thinking…” Loki chuckled, “That all of this could have been avoided if only I had loved you more than I hated Thor. How differently our lives would have turned out… if I had you by my side when I discovered my true parentage.” Loki paused, lost in thought, “Did you ever think on it? _What might have been?_ Our courtship, our wedding night, your belly growing round with child…”

Sigyn’s heart dropped and she turned, seemingly making haste to be as far away from Loki as she could. The sound of her feet scuffing the cobbled floors caught Loki’s attention and he forced his head up just enough to see her retreat once again to the safety of the bathroom. Loki sighed in defeat. If he couldn’t break Sigyn’s frigidity, if she couldn’t even spare a kind thought for him at his most vulnerable… it was over, her heart was truly lost to him.

Loki permitted a few minutes to pass as he gathered his remaining strength, enough at least to hobble across the hall to his own rooms, but as he shifted his weight to stand Sigyn reappeared in the doorway holding a bowl of steaming water, a washcloth, and a few serious looking vials.

“Where do you think you’re going?” she asked sternly, “Stay where you are, unless of course you’d like to bleed to death before morning.”

Loki resumed his penitent pose as the foot of Sigyn’s bed, a smile curling the corners of his mouth. Sigyn knelt behind him, placing the supplies on either side of her thighs. Loki could hear the water droplets fall as Sigyn wrung out the washcloth.

“This will sting a bit.” She warned.

Loki scoffed, “After all this, you think a little ‘sting’ is going to faze me?”

Sigyn smirked as she gently dabbed the washcloth over a small gash on his shoulder, Loki flinched and cried out in pain.

“Told you.” Sigyn remarked, her pleasure in his discomfort obvious, “Your skin is raw and overly sensitive,” she explained, “You’ll be feeling everything a thousandfold for a few days.”

Sigyn made herself more comfortable, repositioning her knees either side of Loki’s, and went about the delicate work of cleaning his wounds. It was a surprisingly kind gesture from Sigyn, even she would have to admit, though she took more than a little satisfaction in the gasps of pain that escaped his thin lips as she dabbed the warm washcloth against his torn skin. Even kneeling and bowed in defeat Loki’s form was larger than Sigyn’s so she had to lift herself off the floor to comfortably clean the wounds across his shoulders. She swept his dark locks to the side, breathing deep the heady scent of blood, sweat and sex. She scolded herself for being aroused by Loki’s current suffering but was exhilarated by the thought that she was in a position of power, that she could do whatever she wanted to him and he hadn’t the strength to fight back or, worse yet, control her.

_And I have been denied so long._

Sigyn let the washcloth fall to the floor, freeing her eager fingers to slither down the length of Loki’s arms until her face was but an inch from his aching back. She extended the tip of tongue, allowing it to taste his hot, salty flesh, running it along his spine, from between his shoulder blades to the nape of his neck.

“Oh, Sigyn…” Loki shuddered.

Sigyn kissed the crook of his neck, sucking and biting along his pale throat to his ear, inhaling his essence, the scent fuelling her desire.

“Don’t speak. Don’t move.”

She pulled back, her fingernails clawing at his arms before resting around his ribs. She held him still as her mouth assaulted his back, lapping hungrily at his wounds, her fingernails digging into his tender flesh every time Loki’s body spasmed and gasped in sweet agony. Her lips returned to the base of his neck, her face buried in his onyx hair. Her hands drifted under his arms and across his chest, grasping at his pectorals. She pressed her cheek to his shoulder blade as her hands wandering lazily down his slender torso, her fingertips tracing every line of his musculature. Loki growled as they curled around his hips and delved along the deep-set V of his pelvic muscles, down towards the waist of his increasingly restrictive leather pants. Loki let go of the bedframe, leaning back into Sigyn, wincing as his fresh wounds moved against the fabric of her nightdress. He shifted his knees further apart and made to unfasten his trousers, encouraging her actions, but no sooner had Sigyn’s deft fingers wrapped around the girth of his tumescent cock they retreated, Loki whining in pain and frustration. Sigyn bit down his shoulder, breaking the skin and eliciting an anguished cry from Loki, her tongue then retracing its path along his throbbing jugular. With one hand clasped around a bicep, the other gripping his unkempt hair, Sigyn pulled his neck back at painfully awkward angle.

“This is supposed to be a punishment.” Sigyn hissed viciously before shoving him forcibly towards the bedframe. Loki propped himself up against it to stop from collapsing on the floor, his breathing laboured and lustful.

“You bitch.” He spat. Sigyn returned to cleaning Loki’s wounds with the now tepid water, deliberately pushing against one particular angry gash until he cried out in pain.

“Do not speak to me like that,” she reprimanded.

Loki chuckled darkly, “Yes, my love.”

Sigyn selected another wound and pressed the pad of her thumb against until Loki bucked in agony, a fresh trail of blood trickling down the small of his back.

“ ** _Do not_** call me that,” she commanded.

Loki wanted to keep challenging her, to keep her angry, to have her hands finished what they started – his spirit was more than willing, but his body was broken and his stamina fading, so he bit his silver tongue and surrendered.

“As you wish, Sigyn.” _There will always be tomorrow night…_

Sigyn continued her work in silence, refreshing the bowl with hot water and dabbing gently at the numerous lacerations she had made on his back. She retrieved a vial from the floor, pulling the stopper from it with a _pop!_ , the pungent odour of its contents causing Loki’s nose to crinkle.

“What in the Nine is that awful smell?”

“Herbs, mostly,” Sigyn replied, “It will stop infection setting in. But it will sting a little…” she added with a smirk.

Loki steeled himself against the bedframe, unsure how much more “stinging” his body could take. He winced as the first application of the noxious lotion hit his scored flesh but after a few moments the burning sensation gave way to a soothing numbness, thanks in part to Loki keeping his mouth shut and Sigyn not feeling obliged to make him suffer any further.

“I’ll just get some gauze.” Sigyn advised, standing up slowly. She walked over to a nearby cupboard to find it but paused as she caught a glimpse of herself in an adjacent mirror. Her once pristine nightdress was now splattered with sweat stains and patches of drying blood. _And all of it Loki’s._ Sigyn’s skin bristled at the thought, twisting the tainted fabric around her fingers. She hoisted it over head, aware of the slightest hitch in Loki’s breathing, and threw it onto her bed despite to overwhelming urge to hold it to her nose and inhale the scent of him so deeply into herself that he could never truly leave her again.

 _Maybe once he has torn his eyes away from me…_ Sigyn thought, smiling to herself as took her time retrieving a silken robe the colour of champagne, feeling Loki’s lustful gaze snake over her naked body.

Loki drank in the sight of her, thinking her exquisite in spite of her scars.

“Look at us…” he managed, “A matching set.”

“Hardly,” Sigyn scoffed, “I’ve barely broken the skin. A day or two of proper care and your injuries will be no more than scratch marks.”

She pulled the robe around her, not bothering with the slim belt, allowing it to sit loosely over her full breasts, leaving her mound purposely exposed to torment Loki further.

“I lack the strength to do any permanent damage with tools available to me. Though,” she added with a thoughtful smile, “I could always knot some rings into the ends of the lash – now **_that_** would leave some impressive scars.”

Eventually she found a roll of gauze and returned to her repentant guest ensuring that he had ample time to savour the sight of her bare body before denying him any closer contact. Sigyn could hear Loki curse under his breath but he didn’t dare speak a word as she wound the gauze around his chest, covering his back, taking great pains to ensure she didn’t touch him any more than was necessary.

When the roll of gauze came to its end Sigyn tied it off with a simple knot and stood up, indicating that Loki should to do the same. She picked up his discard tunic and held it out to him before stepping off to the side, giving him a clear path to the door.

“Goodnight, your majesty.” She said primly.

Loki took his tunic in hand and glanced from Sigyn to the door, then back to Sigyn, gritting his teeth and audibly groaning as he relished the sight of her naked body. _Who knows when she might next permit me to see her in such a way?_

Loki scowled as a greenish glow consumed him leaving the glamour of Odin in his place.

“Goodnight, my lady.” He said before exiting Sigyn’s room and crossing the hall, his guise standing tall and walking freely, immune to the injuries of its architect. As he reached his chamber doors he turned to take one final glace at Sigyn, who smiled wickedly as she closed her chamber doors.

 _Well_ , Loki thought, retreating to the privacy of his chambers, _that went better than expected._

*** *** ***

Sigyn bolted the door and returned to the comfort of her bed, clutching the stained nightdress to her chest. She fell back on to the mattress rubbing her legs together in anticipation, wetness pooling between her thighs as her mind replayed every rapturous moment of the past hour. She ran her hands down the length of her silk robe gasping as her fingertips grazed her hot centre and teased her excruciatingly sensitive nub. It had been years since Sigyn could even muster the energy to pleasure herself, and even longer since Loki had last pleasured her – there had been no man in her life or her bed since. Sigyn suddenly found herself breathless, the intensity of her arousal and the swiftness of her orgasm surprising her. She slid two fingers into her wet entrance, moaning in anguish, wishing they were Loki’s long skilful fingers – his hardness – thrusting into her, his talented tongue teasing her clit. Her back arched and her toes curled as a second orgasm rocked her yet she willed her fingers on, her raw nub screaming in protest as the rest of her ravenous body begged for more, the name of her torment and her pleasure pouring from her lips; _Loki, Loki, Loki!_

*** *** ***

Across the hall, Loki, naked except for his wound dressings, stirred in his sleep. He glanced about his empty chambers but seeing no one collapsed facedown onto his pillow and drifted into a fitful sleep.

_I could have sworn I heard someone say my name…_


	10. Chapter 10

The next morning Sigyn rose with the sun, so excited to start the day that she was bathed and dressed before the maid arrived to wake her. Sigyn ignored the dull girl’s requests to assist her, taking one last look at herself in a full length mirror, smiling at the way [the soft fabric clung to her curves](http://freudensteins-monster.tumblr.com/post/82982726894/gown-liked-on-polyvore-see-more-red-carpet), its lightness a world away from the drab colours that Sigyn had hidden behind previously. She couldn’t bring herself to wear anything darker or more colourful, Sigyn felt bright and clean as though lasts night activities had begun to purge the heaviness from her soul. They had certainly gotten Sigyn back in touch with her sensuality, her capacity for lust, and introduced her to the sheer ecstasy found only in cries of anguish she pried from Loki’s broken body.

Sigyn pushed passed her flustered maid, leaving her chambers and making for the dining hall. The guards stationed in the hallway couldn’t help but stare, Sigyn smirked to herself but as she sashayed passed them then she glared until they averted their gaze. Sigyn chuckled as she turned a corner. Intimidating the help gave her a thrill but nothing would satisfy her like bringing a king, even a false one, to his knees.

*** *** ***

Loki forced himself to rise when his attendant bustled into the room, a glamour around his bed shielding him from discovery and from bothering with disguises so early in the morning. His back screamed as he pushed himself up off the mattress to sit cross-legged in the middle of his bed, but he smiled through the pain as he recalled the pleasure that followed his punishment, his stiffening cock reminding him that he never did get his release. He slowly inched himself closer to the edge of the mattress, every movement agony. He used his magics to clothe himself, adding the visage of Odin over the top of his aching form, and made his way, slowly, to the dining hall.

Odin had been seated less than a minute before Sigyn swayed into view. Loki couldn’t help it, even his mirage of Odin stared slacked jawed at Sigyn’s radiance.

“My dear, you are glowing…” Odin managed.

“Thank you, my king.” Sigyn replied with a smile and not a hint of bitterness. “How do you fare this morning?”

Loki could see her eyeing him curiously, trying to see his injured state beneath the illusion of Odin.

“I’m well, milady. Thank you for enquiring.” Odin responded curtly, not wishing her to see how pained he felt.

A server placed a plate of sliced fruit before Sigyn and much to Loki’s delight she took a piece and ate it, revelling in its sweetness as though she was tasting food for the first time. She moaned softly as she licked the juice from her fingertips. Odin cleared his throat and averted his gaze, focusing on the documents set out before him, trying to ignore the amused stare of Sigyn.

“I find you much changed this morning, milady.”

“I feel much changed, your majesty.”

Odin spared her a glance and a somewhat lecherous grin.

“Not that changed.” Sigyn snorted taking another piece of fruit.

“What are your plans for the day?” Odin queried, averting his gaze once more as Sigyn suckled on her fingertips.

“I’m not sure. I should really find a hobby – wandering the grounds is boring me already.”

“If there’s anything you need just let your maids know.”

“Is there anything you need of me?” she asked coyly, popping a grape between her cherry coloured lips.

Loki tried desperately to think of anything but lying naked in bed with Sigyn, his head resting against her soft thighs as she hand fed him grapes, but his attempts were sabotaged by a foot sliding up the length of his leg, caressing his thigh, seeking out his groin…

“My king?”

Odin almost jumped out of his skin and glared at his attendant for interrupting his daydream. Sigyn, being the only one to notice the subtleties of Loki’s illusion laughed quietly to herself.

“Yes, what?” Odin asked sharply.

“The citizens have started to arrive.”

“Of course…” he mumbled, clearing his throat once more. “If you’ll excuse me, Lady Sigyn, but I have duties to attend to…”

“Don’t worry about me, your majesty. I’m sure I can find some way of amusing myself...” Sigyn purred.

*** *** ***

The kings morning consisted of holding an audience with a dozen or so citizens, each a representative of his or hers specific location or industry. They brought forward productivity reports and health reports and crime reports, they brought forward issues to be resolved and arguments to be quelled. And Loki did his best to act as the wise and all-knowing Odin and not to think about Sigyn’s passing comment about cleaving heads from shoulders. He was in the midst of making a deliberation about the ownership of a flock of sheep when Sigyn first appeared in the hall, in the back of the crowd, her luminous white dress making it impossible not to notice her. Odin faltered but quickly regained his composure and delivered his verdict. She did this for the rest of the morning, disappearing and reappearing amidst the crowd, seeking Odin’s attention and often getting it. By lunch the congregation was dismissed and Loki took the opportunity to return to his chambers for a warm bath to ease the ache in all of his muscles.

Odin’s afternoon was spent overseeing his troops and watching them train. He spoke with his generals and war advisors and discussed matters of state with them, all the while trying to ignore Sigyn as she wandered around the outskirts of the training area, seemingly transfixed by the gardens there. Loki permitted his illusion of Odin to continue autonomously as he was quickly becoming incapable of focusing on anything but the curve of Sigyn’s hips. He cursed himself, so many wasted moments… He should have disappeared during training and had her against a tree in the gardens, his hand clamped over her mouth so she couldn’t be heard over the noise of the training yard. Better yet he should have summoned her before him during the mornings meeting and commanded her strip naked and ride him whilst he sat upon his golden throne, and when she had finally screamed herself hoarse the crowd would have applauded his prowess.

Loki ran a hand over his facing, dragging himself out of his daydreams. Her presence was becoming unbearably painful, permeating his very being and taking hold of his senses. By the time he was getting cleaned up for supper Loki was quite seriously considering throwing Sigyn against the nearest hard surface and fucking her senseless, witnesses be damned.

*** *** ***

Sigyn couldn’t remember the last time she took such delight in a day, the hours spent teasing Loki were some of the best she’d had in many a year. When they were together she had never had much control; over him or her own feelings. She was so naively in love with him, to think back on it made her ill. She had given him everything, let him take everything from her, and dared to be surprised when he didn’t reciprocate in kind. But now… she felt like she held sway over him. He wanted her so badly that by simply denying Loki’s advances it gave her the power during their encounters. It was an amazing feeling, one she wasn’t willing to give up just yet so she spent the day teasing him, always appearing at the edge of his field of vision long enough to make eye contact before fading into the crowd. Sigyn continued testing the limits of Loki’s restraint throughout the course of their evening meal, every moan as she relished a mouthful of food or a sip of wine was a calculated and deliberate act meant to torment Loki further.

Even though the illusion of Odin remained unperturbed Sigyn could feel the tension beneath, she could almost smell Loki’s desperation. When she was certain he was about to burst she excused herself from the dining hall, whispering to him as she bowed, “Don’t forget our prior engagement.”


	11. Chapter 11

_Blast it all to Hel!_ Loki thought as yet another advisor bent his ear over this problem and that. He would have given anything – even the god damn throne – to chase after Sigyn as she left the dining hall. He would have had her three times by the time they made it back to the bedchambers. But no, almost an hour had passed since Sigyn’s departure and Loki was still seated at the dining table as Odin was forced to interact with his subjects. Finally, feeling a lull in the conversation the king excused himself and made a hasty exit. He reached Sigyn’s rooms in record time, shedding his disguise before the doors slammed shut behind him.

“Sigyn!” he called out finding her absent from the main chamber. He was about to seek her out in the bathroom when a rod came down across the backs of his knees, causing him to fall to the ground. Before he had a chance to call out in pain a riding crop was placed under his chin, tilting his head backwards until he could see Sigyn’s smiling face.

“You know… I don’t think I’ve ever gotten the drop on you before.” She remarked, her smile widening to show the gleam of her teeth, “What’s the matter, Loki? Were you distracted?”

“You know damn well I was – Ow!” he cried as the riding crop connected to his cheek.

“It was a rhetorical question, I have no interest in listening to anything you have to say.” She added coldly. “Remove your shirt. Let me see your wounds.”

Loki did as asked, smirking, enjoying this playful domineering side of Sigyn, for now.Sigyn sighed gloomily as her eyes wandered over Loki’s back, the edge of the riding crop grazing the already healing marks.

“What did I tell you? Barely scratches now.”

“You could always make more – Ow!” The riding crop connected with the back of his head.

“You really have a problem taking instruction, don’t you?”

Sigyn stepped to his side and held the riding crop in front of his mouth. Without being told Loki bit down on it, much to the delight of Sigyn.

She had bathed while she had waited for him, Loki noticed, the remnants of the perfumed water dancing over her skin. Sigyn had changed out of her white gown and was now dressed in naught but her silk nightgown, the belt secured around her waist, hiding too much of her exquisite body from Loki’s hungry eyes.

“Put your hands behind your back.”

Loki obliged, his eyes sparkling with mischief. Sigyn moved behind him, a light susurrus catching his attention. She knelt behind him, binding his wrists together with the silk belt of her nightgown, knotting it tightly before tying the remainder around his ankles. Satisfied with her work Sigyn walked away from Loki, retreating into the bathroom leaving Loki to struggle against his restraints and groan into the riding crop. She reappeared momentarily, holding a hairbrush, her gown falling open, exposing her to Loki’s lustful gaze. She didn’t return it, in fact she ignored him completely as she perched herself at the end of the bed, directly in front of Loki, and began to brush her long golden tresses in slow, deliberate strokes.

Loki groaned appreciatively every time Sigyn shifted in her seat, exposing a different expanse of skin to him. Every so often she would cross and uncross her legs, Loki resisting the urge to scream with frustration. He was so close yet so far.

“Did you want something?” Sigyn asked, eventually acknowledging his presence.

Loki glared and rolled his eyes.

“Did you want to touch me?” she asked, rising from the bedframe, discarding her hairbrush. “Did you want to taste me?” Sigyn moved closer to him until he could almost lick her soft belly. Loki made the most of the opportunity, leaning forward as much as his restraints would allow to press his face against her flesh. Sigyn immediately stepped back out of reach, a dangerous smile playing on her lips. “No.”

She returned to the bedframe but instead of resting on it she put her hands behind her on the mattress and lifted herself over it. She lay back on the bed but left the lower half of her legs dangling over the bedframe. Loki’s eyes went wide when he realised what she was about to do.

_No! This is too much!_

Sigyn let out a soft moan as she pressed her fingers into her wetness and stroked her slit lazily, but with every muffled cry from Loki her excitement grew. All Loki could do was watch as Sigyn writhed on the bed, her sex dipping in and out of view, hidden by the bed frame and the movements of her thighs. Sigyn’s breathing became shallower, her toes clenched and unclenched, and when she moaned his name Loki lost control, struggling against his restraints desperate to join her on the bed. He spat out the riding crop and implored her to end his torment but she ignored him, her pleasured cries growing louder until she found her release. Loki cursed the heavens and fell forward, ignoring the awkwardness of his feet being pulled up behind him as he smacked his forehead against the stone floor, clenching his teeth in frustration.

From his position on the floor Loki saw Sigyn’s feet touch the ground, one of them slipping under his contorted form pushing him back on his knees.

“Did you want something?” Sigyn repeated, her voice dripping with sweet venom. She held a hand in front of his face, the lingering scent of her invading Loki’s nostrils.

“I want you.” He lunged forward and took Sigyn’s fingers in his mouth, groaning as sucked each of her slender digits, revelling in the taste of her. “I want more.”

Sigyn looked down upon him, her bound captive, salivating for want of her… She sneered and let her hand fly, her knuckles connecting with his cheekbones.

“But you’ve already had more than enough.”

“Hardly!” he panted as he lunged forward again, this time in hopes of burying himself between her thighs.

Sigyn slapped him again, Loki glared back, eyes ablaze, growling viciously.

“You don’t remember?” Sigyn asked with a sad smile. “You’ve already taken all that was offered you. You could have had so much more; you could have had this body whenever you wanted it, any way that you wanted it… Once, I would have given you anything you desired. But you discarded me like a toy you had tired of. Why should I permit you to touch me again after so long, hmm?”

Sigyn made use of Loki’s moment of reflection to lean down and retrieve the riding crop, running the pad of her thumb along the handle as she inspected the bite marks.

“You almost broke my riding crop!” she pouted.

She pressed the leather keeper against Loki’s cheek as he did his best not to flinch in anticipation.

“I think… one strike for every season that passed since the day you cast me aside.”

Loki inhaled sharply.

“Don’t look so scared, pet. I could have counted the days.” she added darkly.

Sigyn stood behind Loki and without warning brought the tongue of the crop down between his shoulder blades. She varied the location of the strikes - across his shoulders, down his back to his ass, occasionally landing a blow along the inside of his thighs - but kept the pressure the same; enough to make him wince.

When she was satisfied Sigyn threw the crop aside, it skidded over the table laden with torture devices but she paid it no mind, heading towards the left side of her bed.

“Are you finished with me?” Loki asked, no small amount frustration heard in voice.

“For now.” came her prim reply.

“Are you not going to untie me?”

“No.”

Sigyn let her robe drop to the floor and slipped naked between the sheets of her bed.

“Be a dear and extinguish the lights.”

With a grunt Loki complied, wondering whether he should undo his bounds by magic or if Sigyn intended for him to remain kneeling and bound until morning.

*** *** ***

The sun filtered through the windows and caressed the awkwardly crumpled form of Loki. He groaned with relief as he felt his bonds being cut, relishing the opportunity to extend his cramp limbs. He caught glimpse of Sigyn’s feet as she walked to the bathroom, the blade in her hand glinting in the sunlight.

“The maids will be along shortly. You should leave, or at least change back to Odin.” Sigyn advised without turning around. She closed the bathroom door behind her leaving Loki to drag himself to his feet. He stumbled towards the door and rendered his illusion of Odin just before the first maid barged into the room, immediately regretting her impertinence, bowing her head and averting her gaze.

“Out of the way, you stupid girl.” Odin barked before storming across the hall to his own chambers and ordering his attendants to draw him a bath. He had a lot of tension to soak away.


	12. Chapter 12

Loki spent the rest of the day with a dark cloud over his head, taking his frustrations out of all those around him – except for Sigyn. She was the cause of his torment, but even as she shadowed him throughout the day, [shining like a supernova](http://freudensteins-monster.tumblr.com/post/89954176166/rami-al-ali-x), bright and dangerous, he couldn’t bring himself to say a harsh word to her. He feared angering her further as it would only serve to extend his punishment – he knew he needed to continue to be compliant, allow Sigyn to drop her guard first, but all this waiting? Gods, it was torture!

By the end of the day Sigyn had Loki at his wits end, he couldn’t even think about her without his member throbbing for attention, attention that she continually denied him. Loki stalked about in his own bedchambers contemplating not venturing across the hall that night, instead he gave serious thought to dragging that one infatuated chambermaid back to his room and slaking his lust, but it would be a hollow reprieve. Stress-relieving and tension-releasing, certainly, but hollow all the same. He wanted Sigyn. He wanted her standing before him naked, her fine gown pooled at her feet. He wanted her lying face down on silk sheets, gasping ecstatically as he traced every last one of her scars with his tongue. He wanted her straddling him, clinging to him, begging for her release…

Loki tugged at his hair and screamed his frustrations to the empty bedroom. Slowly, he regained his composure and steeled himself for what was to come. _Or rather, not_ , he grumbled. He crossed the chasm between their rooms and stepped into Sigyn’s chambers, immediately discarding his tunic and kneeling at the foot of her bed.

Sigyn, seated at the window seat, didn’t bother to glance up from the book in her lap.

“What’s the matter, your majesty?” she purred, “You seem upset this evening.”

“Not at all, my lady,” Loki replied through clenched teeth, “Just a little… tense.”

Sigyn smiled at this and rose from her seat at the window, leaving her book behind her, walking over to her sulking guest, her amused eyes wandered over Loki’s dishevelled form.

“You look like Hel.” Sigyn remarked.

Loki bit back a bitter laugh, “I haven’t been getting much sleep.”

“And what’s this?” she asked, grazing a fingernail along his cheek, “Stubble? Hmpf, you used to take so much pride in your appearance.” Sigyn mused.

“I apologise, I have been somewhat distracted of late.”

Sigyn clicked her tongue and smiled viciously at her tormented lover, “Well, we can’t have the king of Asgard looking like some wandering vagabond, now can we?” She walked towards the adjoining bathroom, pausing at the doorway to address her captive audience, “Come along, your majesty, before the water gets cold.”

Loki licked his lips wolfishly, allowing himself a moment of torturous hope as he followed Sigyn into the bathroom. The room was heavy with condensation as steam rose off the large ornate tub in the centre of the room. Sigyn gestured to it as she busied herself at a row of shelves. Loki quickly shed his boots and trousers before sinking into welcoming waters, glancing up at the large mirror on the wall hoping to catch Sigyn staring at him lustfully – she wasn’t. Loki sighed, reclining in the tub, finding some small measure of contentment as he allowed the warm water soak away his stress. Sigyn returned, placing a small table laden with a small jug, a comb and various soaps and oils, beside the bathtub. She took the jug and dipped it below the water level, slowly filling it before moving behind Loki. He smirked as he watched her make a conscious effort not to stare at his naked body. With the slightest hint of hesitation Sigyn place a hand gingerly on Loki’s forehead and poured the water over his head, repeating the process until his dark locks were completely saturated. She then traded the jug for a bottle of fragrant lotion, dispensing a small amount in the palm of her hand. She rubbed her hands together before dragging them through Loki’s mane, every now and then taking a moment to languidly knead her fingertips into Loki’s scalp causing him to whimper as he imagined what else he’d like those hands to do.

Loki bit his lip as desire sparked in his loins, his hands clinging to the edge of the tub to stop them from roaming beneath the water to satisfy his growing need. He tried to control his breathing as Sigyn once again filled the jug and rinsed the lotion from his hair before she began combing it in slow deliberate strokes. How he wished he could trade places with her; to watch her bathe, to hear her sigh as the warm water trickled down her heaving chest…

“Sigyn, please…” he murmured.

“Be quiet.”

“No!” Loki spat, as he turned in the water, grasping at her, “Enough of this foolishness!”

Before Sigyn had a chance to react Loki had grabbed her by a wrist, pulling her close enough so he could get an arm around her waist and drag her into the bathtub with him, pushing her against the side. The skirts of her fine gown floating in the water making it seem like they were bathing in liquid gold, they moved around Loki as he moved closer to his flustered tormentor.

“Enough, Sigyn,” he whispered, “Enough with these games…”

He moved to kiss her but his lips had barely grazed hers when he felt something dangerously sharp at his throat. He pulled away to see Sigyn staring at him with cold eyes, her dagger threatening to cleave his Adam’s apple from the smooth column of his throat.

“Until Ragnarök.” Sigyn hissed.

“What?” Loki asked quietly, his mind focused on the movements of throat and the steadiness of Sigyn’s hand.

“I never wanted to play these games with you – I didn’t even want to _see_ you. _You_ insisted. You said you would permit me to punish you every day til Ragnarök. But now that it proves inconvenient to you, you wish the change the rules?”

Loki grit his teeth, “You want me, Sigyn. I can feel it.”

“I lust for a warm body,” Sigyn sneered, “Any but yours would suffice.”

“Liar.” Loki replied, smiling as much as he dared.

“You would know, Silvertongue.”

They stared at each other for what seemed an age, the intensity of their attraction almost boiling the bathwater. Eventually Sigyn spoke, her blade still held firm against Loki’s neck.

“Your punishments will not cease until say they do. You will not touch me unless I say you can. If this is proving too difficult for you then I _humbly_ request that you take me back to where you found me and let me rot in peace.”

Sigyn’s words gave Loki pause and, though he knew he would be fighting his desires every second that passed between them, he knew he couldn’t let Sigyn leave, he couldn’t bear the thought of allowing this beautiful wildfire to fade away to nothing but embers, not his Sigyn.

He offered his palms up in defeat and backed away from Sigyn, reclining back into his original position. His hands gripping the edge of this bath, his eyes fixed on Sigyn’s.

“I am yours to command, my lady.”

Sigyn’s smile mimicked the blade she held between her hands.

“Very good, your majesty.”

Sigyn propped herself up and moved towards Loki, her hands resting on his forearms as she positioned her knees either side of his hips, not permitting herself to sit lower in the water, closer to Loki’s aching manhood. She placed the blade between her teeth as she prepared a lather for Loki’s pale face. She took her time, moving her hands over his sharp cheekbones, his thin lips, his long neck… She took her blade in hand and gave Loki a moment to change his mind, instead, to Sigyn’s delight, he offered her his throat. She held the blade close and moved it with the grain, her skin prickling with the sound of the dagger scraping against Loki’s stubble.

Loki closed his eyes and gripped the edge of the tub tightly, unable to bring himself to look at Sigyn as she subconsciously let her mouth fall open towards the end of every stroke, her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth in concentration. He focused on his breathing, trying not to think of close she was to him, how close he was to having all that he desired.

“All done.” chimed Sigyn’s voice, as she wiped away the last remnants of the soap. “There,” she said, pleased with her work, “Now you look like yourself again.”

“Thank you.” Loki replied stiffly, not daring to move. Sigyn smiled knowingly and sunk back to her side of the tub and with a wave of her hand dismissed him. Loki gave her a grim smile as he stood up and stepped out of the tub, turning his back to her, unwilling to give her the satisfaction of seeing how painfully affected he was by her. He wrapped a towel around his waist, sparing Sigyn a glance over his shoulder as he collected his clothing from the bathroom floor. She was staring at him, unabashedly, the dagger playing on her lips. Loki’s lips curled into a smile.

“I am not a fool to hope, am I?” he asked.

Sigyn blinked, too preoccupied with watching the water run down Loki’s back to be paying attention.

“Hope?”

“That you will one day give in to your desires – I know you crave my touch above all others. Do you deny it?”

“I do not deny that I want you,” she replied pensively, “It’s just that… I want you to suffer more.” Sigyn granted Loki one of her warmest smiles, “Until morning, my king.”

“Unless you have need of me before then.” Loki replied, mischief on his lips.

“I shall survive the night, my king. Will you?”

Loki laughed at this and gave Sigyn the slightest bow before exiting the bathroom. He hadn’t even reached the door when he heard Sigyn’s ecstatic moans emanating from the next room. He grimaced and forced himself to cross the hallway back to his own chambers. _I can wait…_


	13. Chapter 13

In the days and nights that followed Loki and Sigyn perfected their routine, Sigyn would amuse herself throughout the day whilst Loki was busy playing king, but every evening after supper he would kneel at the foot of her bed and await his punishment. Denial was her favoured method - letting him look but not touch. Some nights Sigyn would lower herself to the floor beside him, her lips and fingers ghosting over his pale flesh for hours on end until the pressure building in his groin became so unbearable that Loki would beg for release. At which point Sigyn would step away and dismiss him for the night.

It wasn’t lost on Sigyn that Loki could make his punishment stop at any moment, he had the strength and power to turn the tables on her, to take her by force. The fact that he didn’t, that each night he returned to her bedroom and knelt in subjugation before her… Oh, it was ecstasy.

*** *** ***

One afternoon Sigyn was roaming the palace halls, smiling, lost in her lustful thoughts until the obnoxious jingling of jewellery focused her attentions.

“Well, look at you…” purred Kata, strutting down the hallway without her usual envoy of giggling disciples following her. Sigyn stopped dead, Kata bleaching her would of colour with just a sneer. “Lady Sigyn, blushing like a maiden… Any one would think you were in love.”

Sigyn grimaced. How she hated that word, even when it wasn’t being uttered by Loki. Kata made to pass Sigyn by but paused to whisper in her ear, “You forget yourself, servant. He cares naught for you – you are nothing but a whore…”

Sigyn reacted without hesitation, throwing Kata against the wall, clamping a hand over her mouth before she had a moment to scream. Kata struggled and almost broke free of Sigyn’s grasp but froze as Sigyn reached under the layers of her skirt to retrieve the dagger habitually tied to her thigh. Sigyn held it up to Kata’s eye level to encourage her silence.

“Lady Kata…” Sigyn seethed, “You are correct; I am nothing but a whore now. But I am _his_ whore. And with that position comes certain… privileges. There is little I can do that would warrant my dismissal. I could do anything, even attack a courtier, carve runes into her pretty flesh,” she added, tapping her blade against Kata’s quivering chest for dramatic emphasis, “And as long as I continued to please him he would simply scold me and ask that I not do it again,” she said with impish smile, “You would do well to remember that the next time you see me – and walk in the opposite direction. Do I make myself understood?”

Kata nodded her head as much as Sigyn’s hold would permit her, her dull eyes wide with fear. Sigyn released her and stood back, giving Kata room to flee.

“Now… Fuck off.”

Sigyn didn’t move until Kata was out of sight, storming back to her bedchamber to make ready for her evening with Loki, preparing a few choices words – and whips – to share with him.

*** *** ***

As Loki, or rather Odin, made his way to the dining hall, he mused over the noticeable absence of Sigyn. He hadn’t seen her all day, which was unusual. She generally found ways to interact with him throughout the day, even if it was just stealing lustful glances over meals. Loki winced as he sat at the head of the table, his countenance of Odin not betraying the residual discomfort he felt from the previous evening’s interrogation with Sigyn. He had crossed paths with the now-gentrified Kata earlier in the day and she, being the inspiration for his most recent punishments, was subjected to a long, cold stare from Odin until fearful tears fell from her eyes and she had to excuse herself.

Loki had almost finished his meal when Sigyn made an appearance, dishevelled and grubby and smelling like the stables.

“Where in Asgard have you been?” Loki asked, staring her up and down.

“Out.” Sigyn replied primly.

“Where?” Loki repeated.

Loki chuckled as Sigyn shot him a warning glance.

“Okay, fine, don’t tell me.”

“I won’t.” Sigyn replied with smile, digging in to plate of lukewarm vegetables as though she hadn’t eaten all day, “On a related note… Are you free tomorrow?”

“Free?” Loki queried, glancing at her over the top of his wine glass. “For what?”

“I wish you to accompany me out of the city tomorrow. Are you able to shirk your responsibilities for the day?”

“I don’t think…” Loki started but was promptly cut off by Sigyn.

“Let me rephrase: You will be accompanying me out of the city tomorrow. Please make appropriate arrangements for the king’s absence.”

“…Yes, my lady.” Loki responded, smirking at her forcefulness, pondering her intentions.

“Good.”

Sigyn grasped at a nearby goblet and skulled the contents before rising suddenly from her seat.

“You may remain in your chambers this evening, I have much to prepare.”

And without another word Sigyn turned to leave, making a show of curtseying for the king, before confiscating a water pitcher from a stunned servant and retiring to her rooms for the evening.

*** *** ***

Loki sat on his bed, staring at his door as though trying to see through it into Sigyn’s room, wondering what in the Nine she had planned for him tomorrow. He lay back on the mattress, tentatively, wincing, and began to stroke himself lazily but stopped almost immediately finding his member still raw from vigorous overuse the night before.

 _I cannot stand this torture much longer,_ Loki thought, sighing with frustration. Oh, he would submit to any torment Sigyn could conceive, just so long as she gave herself to him afterwards. Or before. Or during. Loki groaned, tugging irritably at his own hair. Gods, it was agony. Loki knew Sigyn lusted for him, he could see it in her eyes and could smell her arousal whenever she was close to him, but she was stubborn and ignored her desires, seemingly finding more pleasure in denying him. Loki wondered how long Sigyn could hold out, and no matter the answer he doubted he could wait as long. But if he took her now, by force, as he had dream of doing so often since they had initiated their little arrangement, he might ruin all the progress they had made. He feared that Sigyn would recoil back into fear and shame, that he may not be able to reach her next time…

 _No… Sigyn must give herself to me willingly,_ Loki conceded, giving up his torturous thought processes for the night, seeking a moment’s reprieve in dreamless sleep. 


	14. Chapter 14

The following morning, over breakfast, Sigyn requested Loki meet her in the stables as quickly as he was able, and upon finishing their meal he went about delegating tasks to underlings, rescheduling meetings, and dismissing enquiries into his sudden departure. When he reached the stables less than an hour later, nodding distractedly at every guard and soldier who stood at attention as he went passed, he found Sigyn standing beside his horse, Nör – _his_ horse, not Odin’s. He hesitated briefly before approaching, clearing his throat.

“Perhaps we should take my horse.”

Sigyn glanced up at Odin and then back to Loki’s horse and, realising her mistake, fumbled.

“Oh… Oh, I’m so sorry, my king. But… as he’s already prepared…?”

Her question hung on the air as Loki tried to think, _what should Odin do?_ Eventually he simply grumbled an indifferent “very well” before walking around behind Sigyn and lifting her up onto the back of the midnight steed, hoisting himself up behind her.

The captain of Odin’s guards approached, holding the reins of his own horse.

“Your majesty, shall I prepare your personal guard?”

“No, no, no need,” he replied dismissively, “The lady and I are simply going for a pleasant ride around the outskirts of the city. We shall not require an escort.”

The captain wanted to protest but one stern gaze from Odin had him holding his tongue, retreating enough to allow the king to pass.

“I’m sorry, about Nör,” Sigyn whispered once they were clear of the stables, “I wasn’t thinking…”

“It’s alright,” Loki’s voice whispered back, “Most of the court think you a manipulative minx – it is not hard to believe that Odin would grant you anything, even the use of Loki’s steed, just to keep you happy.”

“Oh, really?” she replied with a giggle.

“Yes, really,” replied Loki, taking the opportunity to press himself against Sigyn’s back, burying his face in her hair, breathing deep her intoxicating perfume.

“Do you mind?” Sigyn asked, swatting at his leg.

Loki gave an exasperated sigh, “I’m not sure if you’ve noticed, my lady, but there isn’t a lot of room up here. If you wanted personal space you should have requested we take two horses.”

Sigyn rolled her eyes at Loki’s indignation, “Do you mind waiting until we’re clear of the city and you’ve resumed your natural appearance? I don’t particularly like being groped by _Odin_.”

Loki’s eyes lit up, not that Sigyn could see them, “Then we best hurry!” He gave his mount a kick, encouraging it to gallop. Sigyn squealed, gripping this horse’s mane tightly as they sped out of the city.

*** *** ***

Clear of the city and its inhabitants Loki pulled his steed to a stop, discarding his illusion and allowing Sigyn a moment to awkwardly shift from the side-saddle position, her ass now pressed squarely against his hardening groin, Loki groaned appreciatively.

“Why don’t you take the reins, since you know where we’re going,” he said huskily, allowing his now unfettered hands to slide along the length of Sigyn’s exposed thighs before resting dangerously close to her mound. Loki delighted in the slightest hitch in her breathing.

“Behave,” she crooned, “Or I shall turn this horse around.”

Loki laughed, grasping Sigyn tightly around her waist as she set Nör to a canter heading into the forest.

*** *** ***

Half an hour later and the city was barely visible under the thick canopy of the forest. Sigyn reined Nör in as they entered a clearing, indicating to Loki that they had reached their destination. He climbed down before helping Sigyn, who relented without too much fuss. She secured Nör to a nearby tree and went about retrieving a small rucksack from behind his saddle. Loki took a moment to survey his surroundings, it was a particularly wild part of the forest, the small clearing bordered by tall, menacing trees, thorned vines curling around their trunks. It was quite an unnerving place, darkened in the shadow of the forest canopy, Loki wondered how Sigyn managed to stumble upon it.

Loki turned his mind back to Sigyn and what she had in mind for this little excursion – was it too much to hope that she would let him take her on the forest floor, ravaging her repeatedly until she screamed so loud that all the creatures would make haste out of the forest in fear of a nameless terror? Loki chuckled at the thought.

“This way,” Sigyn said, leading Loki to small hill topped by a warped and gnarled tree. “After you.” She said curtly, nodding at the hill. Confused, Loki followed her gaze eventually spying a stone doorway set into the hill hidden by a mess of overgrown trees roots.

“You want me to go in there?” Loki asked sceptically, trying to stare into the nothingness beyond the doorway.

“Yes.” Sigyn replied, leaning casually on a tree root. “Whatever is the matter? Don’t you trust me?” she asked, her devious smile telling Loki he would be a fool to do so.

Loki glanced between Sigyn and the doorway, and back again, contemplating his fate. Placing a hand on a tree limb above Sigyn’s head, he leaned over her, studying her features as if seeking the answer to a riddle.

“You would agree that I have been rather… _accommodating_ of your requests, up to this point, would you not?”

“I would.”

“But this… You are not going to tell me what’s down there?”

“No.”

“You will not tell me what befall me?”

“No.”

“…will I be returning?” he asked suspiciously, minimising the distance between them, staring longingly at her cherry-stained lips.

“Yes.” Sigyn replied with a giggle.

“In one piece?”

“More than likely,” Sigyn replied vaguely.

Loki chewed on his lower lip thoughtfully.

“If I am to go through with this, I would ask for an incentive for my compliance.”

“Such as?”

“…a kiss, freely given.” Loki replied desperately, his face so close to hers he could have taken it for himself.

“If you go through with this,” Sigyn answered, her lips perilously close to Loki’s, “And do all that I say… I shall grant you one kiss.”

“Into the void I go, then.” Loki jested, turning towards the doorway.

“Be careful,” Sigyn advised, “There will be about 10 steps downwards before you reach the room.”

Loki bent his tall form under the obstructing tree roots, stepping through the doorway and into near perfect darkness. He created an orb of light in the palm of his hand to illuminate the dark space as he walked down the worn stone steps, Sigyn following close behind him.

Loki reached the bottom of the small stairwell and glanced about him, the walls and ceiling of the small room almost covered in creeping vines. In the middle of the room stood a stone altar.

“It’s a temple…” Loki muttered.

“It was.” Sigyn agreed, appearing behind him. “There are some torches on the walls, if you would be so kind.”

Loki acquiesced, with a small flick of his wrists the orb of light vanished and four torches illuminated the room.

“Strip.” Sigyn ordered.

Loki turned to her and smiled, quickly removing his jacket and tunic, folding them haphazardly and dropping them on the ground.

Sigyn ran a lustful eye down the length of his torso, pausing at his leather clad hips, “I said, strip.”

Loki could barely contain his excitement as he kicked off his boots and extricated himself from his trousers, standing before her naked and unashamed. Sigyn took moment to behold him in all his glory, refraining from licking her lips as she pressed forward with the day’s punishment.

“Lie down on the altar,” was her next command.

Loki hesitated briefly before following her order, lying down on the recently dusted altar, staring up at the vine covered ceiling.

“Ankles and wrists to the corners.”

Loki complied and was left lying spreadeagle on the altar as Sigyn rummaged through her rucksack and retrieved a small glass vial of clear liquid. She approached him cautiously, watching her step, before circling Loki, dabbing a few drops of the liquid on each of his wrists and ankles. She stood back as to admire her handiwork. Loki eyed her suspiciously, eventually giving in to impatience.

“Well?”

“Shh!” was all the reply he got.

Loki stilled and then he heard it, a strange sound, a strained, creaking sound. He heard movement on the floor and turning his head saw a thorned vine snake its way over the altar top and encircle his wrist. He glanced down at his ankles and the same thing was occurring there. He gasped as the vines tightened their old hold on him, the thorns threatening to break the skin. Sigyn stood beside the altar, ignoring Loki’s slightly panicked eyes, and raised the open vial to the ceiling, allowing the delicate fumes to waft, somehow coaxing out from beneath the thick coverage of vines a noxious-looking yellow flower. Satisfied, Sigyn returned vial to the rucksack and began to undress, slipping the straps of her dress off her shoulders, allowing it to fall to the floor, leaving her wearing naught but a short, thin slip and her now-treasured dagger tied to her bare thigh. Whatever strangeness that was occurring above him the sight to Loki’s left was far more enticing. He ached to touch her but as he tried to move against his organic restraints they tightened, piercing the skin.

Sigyn retrieved a small bowl from her rucksack, deliberately bending over far enough so that Loki could see her lack of undergarments.

“Have pity, Sigyn!” Loki cried desperately, “There’s only so much torment a god can bear!”

Sigyn smiled sinfully as she approached the altar, spinning the small bowl between her hands.

“Oh, I think you can take a little more.”

“And what is the game today?”

“Same as it has always been – suffering.” Loki bit his lower lip as Sigyn paused to admire Loki’s bound form. “I can replicate my physical suffering in so many new and interesting ways that I would never get bored, but the emotional pain…” she said with a sigh, “That’s a bit harder to perfect, especially when you seem to lack empathy. But I think…” she said quietly glancing around the room, “I may have found just the thing.”

Sigyn put a hand to one of Loki’s wrists, stroking the vine that held him lovingly, “These are Serpentine Vines,” she explained, “They’re an aggressive carnivorous plant… They react to physical contact like most of their kind, but they also seem to be attracted to the pheromones of their prey, which I have generously applied to your wrists and ankles. The vines constrict around the prey and drag it to nearest flower – the mouth, if you will – which contains a very nasty acid used to digest its food…”

“…your plan is to feed me to a flower?” Loki asked incredulously.

“That would be something, but no.” Sigyn glanced upwards, Loki followed her gaze. “That flower knows that there is food around and it is going to start salivating soon, dripping its poison down, down, down…” Sigyn tapped a finger against Loki’s chest. “It’s going to fall onto your pretty skin, saturating your pores with liquid fire, make you feel like you’re being destroyed from the inside out, make you wish for death. And your only hope for a reprieve from this torture… will be me.” Sigyn held up the small bowl to Loki’s eyes before holding it over his chest. “I will use this to catch the poison but every so often I’ll need to empty the bowl, abandoning you to your agonising punishment, to writhe in pain and to pray that I return to ease your suffering. And that, dear Loki, is the game. Do you accept?”

Loki stared at her, eyes wide with something akin to fear. A few years ago he would have never have thought her capable of something so perfectly vicious – he was impressed.

“Yes.” 

“Now, I was not jesting – this will hurt, more than anything I’ve inflicted upon you previously. If you want it to stop you need just say so and I will put an end to it.”

“How long must I withstand this torture?”

“Until I am satisfied.” Sigyn replied with a small smile.

Loki steeled himself against his impending punishment just as the first droplets of acid began to fall. Minutes crawled by in silence as Sigyn watched the bowl slowing fill, Loki trying not to let his fear betray him as Sigyn’s departure grew near. She spared him a glance before she stepped away from the altar and with slow deliberate steps crossed the room and climbed back up the stairs to empty the bowl outside. She stood there at the mouth of the abandoned temple for a moment, waiting until she heard Loki’s first gasp of pain before returning to his side.


	15. Chapter 15

The pain wasn’t as bad as Loki had been expecting. It burned a little, irritating his skin as the droplets ran down the side of his torso. And then the next drop fell, and the next. He grit his teeth as his skin began to scream, it was as Sigyn described it – liquid fire. After what seemed like an age Sigyn returned to his side and the bowl was back in place, easing his torment somewhat. Loki tried to focus on other things, like why he was putting himself through this Hel; Sigyn had agreed to kiss him. Loki focused on that thought alone, imaging the scenario ending a dozen different ways. Sigyn caught him smiling and walked out of the room again, the bowl barely half full.

The process was repeated several times over the hour, the speed at which the droplets fell from the ravenous flower increasing as time went on, increasing the number of times Sigyn had to leave to empty the bowl, increasing the amount of time Loki had to be exposed to the vile toxin, increasing the volume of Loki’s anguished cries…

In Sigyn’s absence the droplets began pooling on his chest, Loki could swear the acid was eating into his chest, searing his heart and making his blood boil.

_You will long for something as sweet as pain…_

Loki screamed Sigyn’s name until she returned to him and made the pain stop. Well, stop getting worse. Sigyn gazed down appreciatively at her willing victim.

“Would you like it to stop?”

“Are you satisfied?” he gasped, blinking away tears.

“…no.” she said quietly, stroking his hair.

“Then, no.”

Sigyn sighed wistfully, glancing down the length of his submissive form, admiring his dedication. Her eyes lingered for a moment on his trembling manhood.

“Hmm… how best to get my satisfaction and put you out of your misery?” Sigyn pondered aloud. She set the bowl down on Loki’s chest, he flinched at the contact with his raw flesh. “Don’t speak… Don’t move…” she whispered as she leant down to lick a tear from Loki’s flushed cheek.

Sigyn stepped towards Loki’s long legs and hoisted herself up onto the altar, straddling his thighs. She smiling vindictively knowing how much Loki would have appreciated the view, if only he had the strength to life his head. She placed a hand between her folds, stroking her wet slit, coating it in her arousal before grasping Loki’s cock firmly. He cried out in shock, his whole body convulsing.

“Careful,” she warned, placing a hand on his abdomen to steady him, “You’ll tip the bowl over.”

She moved her hand up and the length of his shaft, watching him closely for every micro expression of pleasure and pain. She inched herself closer to his stiffening cock until she could massage her clit with the tip. She sighed as Loki bucked beneath her, his lips muttering curses as he focused on not overturning the bowl. Sigyn twisted her wrist as she reached the head of his penis, Loki’s eyes rolling back into his head as his moaned ecstatically. She traced the length of her slit with his cock, utilising every ounce of willpower she possessed to not to merge their bodies and ride him into sweet oblivion. She held his cock firmly against his abdomen as she slowly grinded against it, her free hand seeking out her swollen clit and teasing it furiously. It took her mere moments to reach her climax but it didn’t satisfy her half as much as she knew Loki could. She bit her lip until she drew blood, forcing herself to move her core away from his, focusing on the movements of her hands around his cock and the frantic cries of her desperate lover. 

The acid ate into Loki’s flesh then the weight of the bowl shifted, despite his attempts to remain unmoved by Sigyn’s lustful endeavours, causing his weakened skin to break and bleed. The flowers poison attacked his exposed wounds with a vengeance. Loki screamed.

“Do you want you want me to stop?” Sigyn asked, mildly concerned for her captive.

“No! Please…” Loki sobbed, “Let me come, let me come just once…”

Sigyn had half a mind to stop immediately but then she would only be ending half of Loki’s suffering, and didn’t he deserve some small reward for humouring her wicked intentions? She removed her hand from his strained member replacing it with her mouth, Sigyn swore she heard tears of joy amidst Loki’s cries as her tongue circled the head of his cock. She took as much of him as she could into her mouth, hollowing her cheeks and bobbing her head erratically, wanting to grant him his release and end her terrible game sooner rather than later. Sigyn moaned around his length, delighting in the most intimate taste of him, something she had almost forgotten. Loki gasped and thrust upwards, the bowl atop his chest wobbling dramatically. He screamed and groaned and choked back tears, the pain and the pleasure merging together until they were undistinguishable from one another. The temple filled with his cries as he found his climax, releasing his seed into Sigyn’s hungry mouth.

Loki lay motionless as Sigyn sat upright, licking her lips. She got to her feet and took the blade from her makeshift garter and cleaved the flower from its nest with one deft stroke. Sigyn then dropped to her knees, throwing away the bowl and making quick work of Loki’s restraints. She looked him over, his face stained with tears and his chest a painful blistered mess, but it wasn’t until she heard Loki utter in a faint whisper “I’m sorry…” that Sigyn was almost brought to tears.

Sigyn got down from the altar and went to her rucksack for supplies; a flask of water, a clean cloth and a small pot of ointment. She cleaned Loki’s wounds diligently, neither of them speaking a word as she worked to undo the damage Loki had willingly suffered for her. She helped him down off the altar and carefully dressed him, seating him at the foot of the stairs as she dressed herself and packed up her belongings, leaving behind the vial of pheromones. With her arm around his waist and his around her shoulders they took the stairs one at a time. They crossed the clearing and Sigyn prepared Nör, coaxing him to his knees as Loki hadn’t the strength to pull himself up. Sigyn sat behind her wounded king, not wanting to aggravate his chest wound further, and awkwardly led Nör out of the forest.

It took the better part of the afternoon to reach the outskirts of the city, and another hour before Loki had the energy to create a reliable glamour. They had said very little to each other throughout their journey and barely exchanged glances as they dismounted upon their return to the stables. Odin’s personal guard had been going out of their minds with worry during the kings’ absence, and judging by the glares Sigyn was receiving they were minutes from sending out a hunting party to track down the vile temptress. Odin, looking every one of his five thousand years, explained away their absence and his stiff movements to a fall off Loki’s “blasted steed”. The guards escorted the weary Allfather back to his bedchambers to recuperate leaving Sigyn to wander the palace grounds alone wondering where all her hatred had gone.


	16. Chapter 16

Sigyn returned to her rooms as the sun set to find Loki once again kneeling at the foot of her bed.

“What are you doing here?”

“We have an appointment.”

Sigyn laughed to herself and she walked around to face him. She stopped smiling when she saw his bare chest still covered in angry red welts, the salve she had applied earlier doing little to stop the blistering and was no doubt useless against the pain.

“You have suffered enough for one day, Loki. You may return to your rooms and rest.”

“No. If you are not going to punish me then I shall stay here, by your bedside, all night.”

Sigyn sighed, impressed and frustrated by his determination.

“Loki… You need time to heal. I cannot torture a dead man, so please, get some rest.”

“…and if I was healed?” Loki asked, piquing Sigyn’s curiosity.

“If you were healed in this moment? You have that ability?”

Loki paused, weighing his options. Changing into his Jotun form would aid his recovery, and he craved Sigyn’s attentions badly enough that it warranted consideration. Loki’s chest tightened with apprehension as he imagined Sigyn’s reaction but in a moment of courage he stood up and faced his lover, taking a deep breath as his skin changed colour from cold marble white to an even colder blue. Layers of frost crusted over his wounds, his chest covered so heavily it looked as though he wore a breastplate of ice.

Sigyn’s eyes went wide as they drank in Loki’s Jotun form, Loki’s blood-red eyes watching her closely, anxiously anticipating her reaction. Sigyn went up on her toes and took Loki’s now-cerulean face in her hands, the pads of her thumbs running gently along the lengths of the strange markings that extended along his cheekbones. Sigyn brought Loki’s face down to meet hers, kissing him chastely at first as a chill ran through her, but soon her tongue caressed his cold lips, begging admission. Loki pulled away, recoiling in disgust, keeping Sigyn at arm’s length.

“Why would you kiss me now?”

“…one kiss, freely given…” she replied weakly.

“Yes, but why now? In this form?” he demanded.

“You have never been more honest with me,” she admitted, stroking his face adoringly, “I find it appealing.”

She went to kiss his cold lips again but Loki retreated.

“But this form – how can you not despise it? How can you look upon me now and not see the monster?”

Sigyn shook her head, laughing despairingly, gripping his face tightly in her hands, the urge to slap some sense into him rising.

“You are a fool, Loki,” she scolded, “I know what you are – the truth of your heritage does not change that.” Loki’s brows creased in confusion so Sigyn elaborated, “A frost giant didn’t break my heart. A frost giant didn’t abandon me to ridicule and torture. A frost giant didn’t return from death purely to torment me further,” she shouted. “You did this to me, Loki, you did. Odinson or Laufeyson – it makes no difference. Your cruelty was evident long before it could be seen in hue of your skin.”

Indeed she knew who he truly was, what he was capable of, and yet here she was standing here before him, unable to leave his side. Sigyn felt stupid and vulnerable and fearful, but she knew with a single kiss Loki could take all of that away.

Loki clenched his jaw, denying the tears that would fall. He pressed his scarred forehead to Sigyn’s, his arms slowly encircling her, still bewildered by her lack of fear.

“You find my honestly appealing?” he queried, a sad smile playing on his lips as he returned to his usual ghostly white complexion and haunting green eyes, his wounds now looking no more than light abrasions.

“Yes,” Sigyn replied breathily, “And I desire more of it.”

Loki sighed, drawing her closer, knowing full well what her first question would be, “…ask.”

“Why did you leave me? Why did you do everything in your power to drive me away?” Sigyn asked yet again, desperately needing to hear a truthful, freely given answer.

“I… I was not worthy of you,” he said simply but Sigyn’s glistening eyes imploring him to continue, “It was becoming evident with every passing day that Odin saw me as the lesser son, that he would never think of me as an equal to Thor... And every day spent trying to change his mind made me hate myself a little bit more.” Loki hesitated, choosing his words carefully, “My thoughts grew dark, darker still when confronted by your light; _Why is she with me? Why does she feign such affection for me? She will not get a crown by attaching herself to me - surely she desires Thor more than I? What is it that keeps her by my side? Is it pity? Charity?_ ” Loki shook his head sadly, “I convinced myself there was no possible reason why you would love me, that it was all some sort of cruel ruse – and so I lashed out at you, gave you cause to hate me in the hopes that it would keep you at a distance for I could not bear the sight of you.”

Sigyn held him close, sighing softly into his chest.

“You were a fool,” she remarked, “I never wanted a crown, Loki. I only ever wanted you.”

“I know.” He replied quietly.

Sigyn sniffled, pulling back to look Loki in the eyes, preparing to ask her next question, “What has happened to Odin? Did you kill him?” she asked, not overly concerned with the answer, though curious as to the fragility of his deception.

Loki chuckled, “He sleeps.”

“And when he wakes?”

Loki considered his response, the question was not new to him having been turned over in his mind a thousand times since he took the throne.

“I will accept my punishment…” he said eventually, not sure if he believed it, but believing that is what a man worthy of Sigyn’s love should do, “and return to the dungeons for the remainder of my life.”

“And what of me?” Sigyn asked angrily, her face twisted in anguish.

“I will tell them you played no part in any of this, that I used my magics to control you – I will wipe your memories, if I must, to ensure your freedom.”

“Don’t you dare!” Sigyn cried out, taking Loki by surprise, “Have me imprisoned alongside you or send me to the executioners block, but do not abandon me again!” she begged, tears threatening to cascade down her cheeks.

“Sigyn, I – “

“No!” she shouted, “My heartbreak and isolation almost destroyed me once – I could not survive it a second time. Please…” she implored in a small voice, terrified of her vulnerability and what Loki would make of it, “Please don’t push me away again.”

Her hands reached up to gently grasp his shoulders, wanting to pull him closer but needing Loki to make the first move; he obliged with abandon, his lips crashing against hers. Sigyn moaned into his kiss, wrapping her arms around his neck as he picked her up with ease and carried her to the bed. Loki placed her reverently on soft bedding, pushing her dress up over her thighs, slowly revealing her body to his hungry eyes. Sigyn whimpered softly as his hands caressed the curve of her ass, arching her back to aid in the removal of her suffocating garments, grinding against the hardening flesh confined within his trousers as she did so. Loki threw her dress across the room, growling as he pressed himself against her, kissing her gently, trailing kissing down her neck and along collarbone.

“No!” she gasped, her hands pulling at his dark hair until his lips met hers. “There will be time enough for sweetness,” she said, kissing him feverishly, “Just fuck me…”

Loki chuckled darkly against her ear, “What did you say, my lady?”

“Haven’t we tormented each other enough?” she asked desperately, “Just fuck me, Loki. Please! Make me scream.”

Loki assaulted her mouth viciously, inhaling her pleas, his trousers vanishing in the blink of an eye as his hand reached down to grasp his aching length. He broke away from her lips, stoking himself as he settled between her welcoming thighs, gazing adoringly at her. He sought out her entrance, a wide grin spreading across his face when he found it soaking wet, begging for attention. He ran the tip of his engorged cock up and down the length of her slit before resting it at her entrance, teasing her.

“Loki!” she pleaded.

“Say it again.”

“What?”

“Say it. Again.” He growled.

“Fuck me.” Sigyn beseeched him, “Pleeeaase fuck me!” she whined.

Eyes locked on hers, Loki slid his entire length into her needy body, watching Sigyn’s face gasp as he buried himself inside her to the hilt.

“Oh, Loki!”

Sigyn wrapped her legs around his waist, her fingers knotted through his unkempt hair, pulling him closer as he thrust ferociously into her eager body, her tightness and desperate cries hurtling him towards a quick release. Sigyn’s ankles curled under his ass, urging him deeper, he obliged, slamming his body against hers until she howled in ecstasy as he hit that delicious secret spot within her, the one that would take her over the edge of bliss. Her fingernails clawed for purchase in the flesh of his back, her mouth at his ear chanting his name. Loki uttered a guttural groan as he felt Sigyn’s walls tightening around his throbbing cock, he wouldn’t last much longer and he wanted – no, _needed_ – Sigyn to come with him. He needed that one perfect moment of intimacy, where the boundaries between their bodies did not exist, when they were one and whole and happy. He needed that feeling more than anything in the universe. He placed a hand between their convulsing bodies, his agile fingers locating her tender clit, teasing it mercilessly. Sigyn threw her head back and screamed, her hips bucking as Loki continued to pound his hardness into her soft flesh, grunting as she climaxed, her walls spasming around his cock, coaxing his release. With one last violent thrust Loki spilled his seed inside her, calling her name to the heavens. He fell against her, clutching her tightly, unwilling to disentangle himself from her for the moment, endless endearments and professions of love lingering on tip of his silver tongue.

“Oh, Loki…” Sigyn murmured, “How I hate you…”

Loki laughed heartily, “What have I done now?” he cried in feigned protest.

“How dare you deny me such pleasures… for so long… so cruel…” was all she could manage between laboured breaths.

Loki pushed himself up, adjusting his position so he could bask in the warm glow of Sigyn’s affection.

“I am truly sorry,” he said in a mocking tone, “It was undeniably cruel to deny you the many, _many_ pleasures of my company. It shall not happen again.”

“It had better not.” She chided with playful smile.

He kissed her passionately then, running his hands through her golden tresses, cupping her breasts, savouring every part of her, smiling as his cock twitched against her thigh, telling Sigyn that he was more than ready to ravage her again.

*** *** ***

Sigyn lay sleeping on her side, her face turned away from Loki, her torso exposed to the cool night air. Loki surveyed the mess of scars that covered Sigyn’s back, his fingertips tracing patterns over her flesh, zigzagging down her spine.  Loki sighed and kissed the nape of her neck. The truth that her heart was in worse condition pained him greatly. Sigyn reacted to his touch, shifting in her sleep, her eyes fluttering slightly.

“Sigyn,” Loki called softly, “Who did this to you?”

Sigyn groaned inwardly, pulling the bed sheets over her shoulder to conceal her scars. “I’m in a good mood, Loki. Don’t spoil it,” she muttered.

Loki sidled up alongside her, pressing his body to hers, savouring the intimacy.

“Please tell me,” he whispered into her ear, “I wish to exact such vengeance upon them that none would dare harm you again.”

“That will be unnecessary,” Sigyn replied eventually, “He is already dead.”

“Who was it?”

“…my father.”

Loki recoiled at her admission. He remembered her father; a stern man who never thought much of Loki at the best of times, but a protective and doting father to Sigyn. Sigyn was his world – how could such a man harm his only child in such a way?

“How could he..?” Loki stammered, “Why??”

“I told you… I was punished for my indiscretions,” She paused for a moment before speaking again, her voice barely audible, “After you fell from the Bifrost and were deemed a traitor to the throne, so many eyes turned to me in disgust; the woman who had given herself to the fallen prince. My father felt I had shamed him and, tainted as I was, he could not marry me off to any self-respecting noble. He had planned to offer a substantial dowry for some well-to-do craftsman to take me off his hands but first he had to be sure I would not shame him further with any lingering feelings for the God of Lies. He felt he had to purge your influence from my flesh, and he did so with whips and rods.”

Loki held her close, his arms enveloping her, as a few stray tears fell onto Sigyn’s pillow.

“Every day my father told me to renounce you, to deny I had ever loved you, and every day that I refused I was beaten or flogged… beaten _and_ flogged…” she muttered.

“Oh, you silly girl…” Loki whispered, holding her tighter still, “After all the heartache that I caused you… you should have renounced me before the first whip made its mark.”

“Yes, I should have.”

“How long did you withstand the torture before you came to your senses and submitted?”

“Until shame, grief and - I hope - guilt consumed my father, and he passed on to the next realm.”

Loki shifted, lifting himself up to stare down at Sigyn. He placed a hand gently on her chin and turned her face until she could not escape his troubled gaze – she was avoiding the truth.

“How many days?” he demanded of her.

Her face softened, her tawny eyes staring back at him with a glimmer of the love they once held for him.

“A little over a year.”

Loki inhaled sharply, stunned by Sigyn’s confession. “A year?!”  He took her face in his hands and, trembling, kissed her softly. “A year… and you never…” He struggled to finish the sentence, the words getting stuck in his throat as he choked back his tears. 

“No… I never renounced you.”

Loki faltered, unable to comprehend such devotion, “I am unworthy of you, my love.”

Sigyn failed to reprimand Loki for his flippant use of the word love, she didn’t even flinch at the sound of it. Instead she kissed him softly as her heart skipped a beat, hoping against hope that perhaps, just this once, the God of Lies meant it.


	17. Epilogue

Loki paced his cell like a caged beast...  

 

It had been a week since he had woken up in Asgard’s dungeon, his head still ringing from an encounter with Thor’s blasted hammer. He replayed recent events in his head, trying to figure out exactly where he went wrong, but whatever preceded it, not disappearing when he had the chance was his biggest mistake.

 

He should have left as soon as his ruse was discovered but the comfortable months spent playing king had made him soft it seemed. And Thor, seemingly knowing him better than he did himself in that moment, had confronted Loki as he raced to find Sigyn. He rubbed his jaw gingerly at the memory.

 

He worried as to what had become of her but daren’t ask – the guards would either be disinclined to tell him anything, or worse yet would take his concern and use it against him, harming Sigyn. A wave of seidhr rolled off his tense body and slammed against the prison wall – his cell lacking furnishings without his mother’s influence. The roar of his fellow prisoners echoed down the hallway indicating that someone other than the guards had arrived, and judging by the wolf whistles mixed in with the obscene curses, it was a female.

 

_I guess I’m about to get my answer._

When Sigyn was brought in to view, dragged along by a haughty guard, it took every ounce of restraint Loki possessed not to rush to the edge of his cell and call out to her, to scream threats of violence against her captor, but all the guard saw was an impassive Loki, glancing at the battered Sigyn with disinterest.

“Prince Thor thought you might like to talk to your whore before she was banished.”

The guard sneered as he threw Sigyn at the foot of Loki’s cell. She cried out as her head hit a corner, but still Loki didn’t move a muscle.

“His Royal Highness would also like to apologise for her condition, but she’s a feisty bitch and tried to kill every guard that came near her.”

Sigyn avoided Loki’s gaze but he could see the extent of her injuries; a faded black eye, a split lip, and bruises on her wrists from where she had been restrained – it made his blood boil. He clenched his fists behind his back attempting to maintain his cool facade.

“Take her away. I have nothing to say to her.”

“Well, if that’s the way you feel, you won’t mind if I fuck her senseless before she’s shipped off?”

The guard pushed Sigyn’s limp form against the barrier, hiking her skirt up as she whimpered in protest. Reacting with the speed of lightning Loki slammed himself against the barrier,

“Don’t you fucking touch her!” he roared.

The guard, though startled, began to laugh. 

“See, I told them… I said, ‘He may not have a heart… but what he does have is a possessive streak the length of the Bifrost’. You don’t want anyone else touching your precious whore, do you?” The guard lowered his voice, his threats dripping with indignation, “So I’m going to fuck her for every time you ever gave me an order, for every time you made me salute you, for every time you I had to call you ‘Your majesty’. And you’re going to watch.” He laughed at the seemingly perfect punishment he had devised.

Loki crouched down at the barrier, staring forlornly at Sigyn’s bruised face.

“This is going to hurt.” He said quietly.

“I don’t know…” the guard chuckled, “She might just like it.”

Loki bared his teeth in a devilish grin, “I wasn’t talking to her, you imbecile.”

The guard faltered, feeling the balance of power suddenly slipping out of his favour.

“You _really_ should have relieved yourself of weapons before bringing her down here.”

 

The last thing the guard knew in this life was the feel of a blade sliding between his ribs, the tiniest spark of fire in a pair of amber eyes, and Loki’s dark laughter following him into the void.

 

**THE END**


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